East as the Raven Soars
by The Grey Wolf Ghost
Summary: A monastery in England comes under attack from Northmen. Among the captured, is a boy who speaks some of their languages and appears to defy the Christian monks around him. Curious about his ways, the Raiders take him back to their lands as a slave. Now this Celtic boy must learn to adapt to his new surrounding or die trying. Please Read and Review. Rating may change. Chap 9 up.
1. Chapter 1

I wasn't a priest…I wasn't even meant to be at the monastery. If I had my way I would've been far, far away from the coast, the monks, the ritual, none of it mattered to me, in fact it had come to represent hell.

Only months ago I had been seized by King Allaie's soldiers, I along with a dozen or so other children from various villages in the north, taken by force we were to be 'civilized' 'Christianized' and serve the kingdom of England and their god. The monks had been all to willing to accept myself and three other boys in the hopes of 'civilizing' us, turning us into monks like them.

While two of us boys were young and accepting, myself and the another boy a few winters older than I named Aodan, fought our Christian captors every step of the way. They ordered us to kneel before their dead god on the cross we stood straight until we were forced to our knees, they forbad us from speaking our own language, we did it anyways, praying to our own gods in our own tongue that the monastery would fall into the sea, even if it meant taking us with it. It was our way of surviving, defying the priests was our way of fighting back.

I was supposed to be attending morning prayer, a daily event I avoided with heart, hiding in the barn with the goats and sheep was always a preferred way to avoid the monks, especially when I could nap, it's a wonder they never looked for me there. My legs were sore from the beating I had received before daylight had even broken as Mathus the monk responsible for my training used whatever means he possessed to arouse me from my less than peaceful slumber. I never knew when the monks would declare it prayer time and interrupt whatever task I was avoiding, so sleep was difficult to come by and peaceful sleep was a forgotten notion.

I had probably been naive in my first weeks here, a good warrior learns, he examines, he studies, he prepares for whatever situation is placed before him in order to fight and vanquish his enemies. I had fought...but I fought too early I should've studied first and leaned, know thy enemy, but I did not. I defied them, but didn't learn from them that was my biggest mistake. As a result I knew practically nothing of the monks, their religion, or their ways.

As the warning bell chimed I launched awake, spooking Mathus who yes was a goat and named after my monk enemy. It was my own jab at the man who had made it his mission to make me miserable. Unlike his human counterpart, the goat Mathus was a wonderful trustworthy companion, for a goat. He'd follow me around the monastery like I was a fellow goat. I knew at some point a time would come where he might be slaughtered for soup, but when that day came I would continue to defy the Monks and hide him, maybe he and I could escape together and I could find my way north, find my way home, at least what was left of it.

Mathus let out a frightened baa and ran deeper into the hay. Slowly I crawled out of my hay nest and peeked out of a knot in the barn wood, men were coming, big men armed with axes and large round shields. Though I did not recognize the men themselves I recognized their mannerism, their weaponry, these were Northmen, raiders from the east. Stories had reached the monastery of raiders who stole riches, massacred all in their path who appeared weak or attacked them, but spared some to be taken back across the sea to be enslaved.

My grandfather, of whom I remember very little had been stolen by them as a child and returned to our lands as an adult. He knew their customers, knew their language, and knew their ways. He had tried to teach me some of it, but I was very small and defiant even as a young child learning stories of other lands was not exciting like hunting trips with my father or hearing of our own legends.

The world of the Northmen didn't attract me, even when my grandfather sat me down and forced me to listen. I closed my eyes and tried to remember his words

 _'The men from the East, the Northmen, are fierce warriors, they do not fear death in battle and in fact welcome it.'_

 _'What man welcomes death? Be he mad?'_

 _My grandfather looked at me stern as if I had just cursed the goddess and gods themselves._

' _Are ye stupid boy? These men welcome death, to die in battle means to die a warrior, they are welcomed into the hall of their gods to live as warriors to the chief God, Odin.'_

' _There are other gods?' I had asked dumbfounded_

' _The Norsemen believe in gods like we do, but different names and strengths. There is Odin, the all father, his wife Frigg, there is Thor the God of the thunder, Frey and Freya...and of course the trickster God Loki.' I listened to the names, mesmerized 'his children, Fenrir the Wolf, the serpent_ _Jörmungandr, and of course,_ _Hel the goddess of the underworld,'_

' _Wait, you said that when they die they join the gods in their hall?'_

' _Only the warriors who die in battle are welcomed into the great hall, Valhalla,'_

' _And if they do not die in battle,' the look my grandfather gave me was enough to answer that question._

Screams and pleading from the monks pulled me out of my memory as the northmen began their assault on the monastery. I wondered how long it would be until I was discovered, I may be able to hide from the foolish monks, but these were warriors, hunters who sought out blood to spill and treasure to steal. No place would be safe to hide and I would either be found and killed on the spot or found and killed eventually.

As the barn door swung open, I felt my heart skip a beat and I'm pretty sure it stopped when the raiders themselves stepped inside, cautiously, swords and axes drawn and covered in blood.

Slowly I moved into the light, why hide when they would find me anyways, if I hid, they'd be more apt to kill me once they found me.

The first man jumped when he saw my movement and turned his sword to me, calling out in their language, some of which I surprisingly understood…All my grandfather's lessons flooded back into my mind. It was as if my grandfather had envisioned a time when I would be faced with the very race of men who had kidnapped him as a child…he had drilled key words into my memory and now hearing the words spoken, I remembered the lessons.

"K…kveoja," I stumbled over the foreign words "vinr!" I put my hands up in order to assure the men I was not only unarmed, but I was not planning on retaliating….reminding them I was only a child, I hoped that the words I had used were greetings and friend and not some declaration of war or an insult.

The men were shocked and began whispering to themselves. I heard words Kristinn and tala, Kristinn was easy enough to guess that it meant Christian and I recognized the word for speak fairly quickly.

Knowing my fate could be determined by my faith at this point, I shook my head and placed my hands on my chest.

"Eigi!" I exclaimed "eigi Kristinn!", unlike the word for Christian, the word for not, eigi was much more difficult to pronounce and I really hoped that I had not just declared myself a Christian and was just waiting to get my throat slit. "Albanraich," I added in my own Gaelic language "Ceilteach," identifying myself as Scottish and Celtic, hoping that my being pagan like them would work in my favor.

Two of the men began conversing back and forth and their voices grew louder. I began to pray that if I was going to die this day, I prayed that the Bean Nigh would take me swiftly to the otherworld to be with my family and live among the gods and the fairy folk and I would no longer hear about Jesus or English kings…or eternal damnation for being a pagan.

One man in particular, a brooding, towering Norse with a large scraggily beard seemed to be on my side. The other man was not as large, but still commanded a presence, he was brandishing his sword in my direction and I was sure that the blade was desperate to find my throat.

This back and forth arguing seemed to go on for hours, before finally the smaller man pushed past the larger man in a huff and exited the barn. The rest of the men seemed to look after him and some followed, but a majority stayed behind. The tall man approached me and I started to back away, but he was quick as he grabbed my loose fitting cloak, I had refused from day one to wear the robes of the monks and instead stayed dressed in the clothes I had worn when I was brought to the monastery, I accepted the cloak because it was warm on the cold nights. The cloak strained as I was lifted off the floor by it and I struggled and kicked a little out of instinct, but the man shook me hard and I stopped. He shook me a little bit more and examined my eyes and my teeth, before placing me back on the ground to check my hands and my arms, seeing if I could work or was as weak as the monks.

He looked back at his companions and nodded. Another man stepped forward with a rope and tied my hands together tightly, the last thing I saw in that instance, was a black cloth being placed over my head…as my world went dark.

I felt a hand on my back as I was pushed forward, I did so unsteadily as bare feet left the hay of the barn and sank into the cold mud of the yard, before we left the mud and my feet found the path…the path that leads back to the beach. I must have stumbled several times, but whoever had their hand on my back, pushing me prevented me from falling.

When my feet reached sand I was pushed to my knees and for a brief moment I felt my life coming to an end, was this where I would die, executed near the water so they could just toss my body in and I'd never reach home.

Instead of killing me, the black hood was pulled off and I blinked as I looked around, I recognized several of monks, including Mathus, all of them looked terrified and like me were tied up, however unlike them, I was not tied up in a line of monks, I was alone. I didn't see any of the boys I had been brought to the monastery with, not even Aodan and my heart sank. Mathus spotted me looking around and knew exactly who I was looking for,

"He's dead Edwin, your friend Zachariah died on his knees begging for his life and praying to the Almighty. These pagan fiends killed him. Which is what they will do to us, only God can save us now. Have you decided to renounce your pagan ways boy and accept the one true god, like your friend did?" Mathus spat and I glared back at him, hating not the Northmen for killing my best friend, but for Mathus for allowing Aodan to die and for using the English name they had given me.

Like all of our other defiance, Aodan and I refused to accept our English names nor would we answer to them, instead we continued to address each other by our given names. If I knew Aodan like I did, he never would've accepted the Christian god in his final moments, he would be afraid and beg for his life, but he would be begging for our own gods and goddesses to protect him…and at the very least take him to the otherworld to live for eternity.

One of the Northmen backhanded Mathus and barked at him in their language and though I didn't understand what he had said, it was pretty easy to guess the monk had just been told to shut up. The monks were yanked up by the rope attacked to the monk at the head of the line and they were pushed towards the water's edge, where a great ship waited, the water was so deep that it reached many of the monks' chests as the waves crashed towards the shore and I felt a twinge of fear wash over me, the water would easily be over my head and I could not swim.

The Northman who had advocated for me pulled me up by the back of my neck, forcing me to my feet as he guided me to towards the water, it was here I planted my feet and refused to go further, the man yelled and pushed but I fought as much as possible. In the end however it mattered little, he simply picked me up and carried me to the waiting ship, plunking me in like I was a bale of hay. Another man dragged me over the wooden planks and tied me securely to the side of the ship, which certainly assured myself that I was not going to fall overboard.

A cawing noise caught my attention and I looked up into the sky, a weak smile broke over my face, it was a raven, my name sake and a symbol of a good omen with my people. The Northmen around me followed my gaze and many of them clapped and jabbed each other in the ribs and pointed at the circling raven. The monks looked on in confusion and some in disgust, part of the reason the monks insisted on changing my name (aside from it being the heathen language as they so kindly put it) was because crows and ravens are considered a bad omen to the monks and to have someone living at the monastery, being trained to serve their god named for such a bad omen was blasphemy.

The Northman who had protected me saw me watching the raven and smiled, he gestured to the sky and the bird and said

"Hrafn,"

I looked at him a little confused and tried the word out for myself

"H…rfan," I repeated and the man clapped me on the back happily. Taking a deep breath I pulled my still tied hands to my chest, pointing to myself "Hrfan," I repeated and he looked at me confused for a moment "Hrfan," I said again pulling my hands to my chest hard "Fitheach" I added saying my real name out loud, in ear shot of the monks felt grand and I pointed to the raven and myself again, repeating several times "Hrfan, Fitheach,"

Finally the Northman's eyes lit up with understanding and he pounded my back again, before turning to his companions and repeating what I had said and more in their own language. Mathus glared at me as the other Northmen pushed the ship into the waves, launching us forward.

"They will still kill us boy, we are still going to die in their pagan lands." Mathus continued to preach and I finally took the bait

"Then at least I will die in good company…with likeminded men." I shot back "then the Bean Nigh can take me on her wings to where my ancestors live on amongst the gods and fairies." I added in Gaelic Mathus only understood a word or two, he had made it his mission to understand what Aodan, the other two boys, and myself were speaking when we were first brought to the monastery, he only managed to learn a word here and there which was fine with us. But I know for a fact he understood the word gods and ancestors and put two and two together. His glare at me faded a bit as the ship began to bounce and lurch in the rough sea and I found myself cowering closer to the side of the ship, I heard some of the monks retching and blocked it out by picturing my village, I was thankful to be away from the monastery, but I also knew I was not going home…I was going somewhere and that thought made me both fearful and a bit curious, what was on the other side of the sea?

x-x-x

A/N: This is first attempt at diving into Vikings fiction and I hope it made sense. The words I used, both the Norse and the Gaelic are from intense web searches and books I own, so if they are not correct please let me know. This was originally intended to be a one shot that I wrote during intense writer's block, but if people like it and are interested in reading more I will certainly continue it.

Take care


	2. Chapter 2

x-x-x

It took only a few days before I grew accustom to the swaying of the ship and the salty water splashing in my face. It also took only a few days for the Northman who had taken me to loosen the ropes around my wrists, I was still tied up, but no longer tied to the side of the ship, maybe they assumed I was small enough I could be restrained quickly if I decided to jump overboard.

Glancing over the edge of the ship I shuddered, no chance of that occurring, I had no desire to die in the sea, not if I wanted to join my family in the otherworld. That thought made me pause for a moment…if I was to die not on the soil of my ancestors, but on soil of another land…another people, who believed in gods so very different from my own deities, would the Bean Nigh still find me and take me home? I doubted it, I would most likely cease to exist in the physical world, just become a ghost to haunt this new land for all eternity, never reunited with my family in the otherworld…which meant I would do all in my power and will to not die on the Northmen's soil, I would return home someday.

The ship hit a particularly large wave and sent us flying into the air before crashing down, soaking those of us unfortunate enough to be close to the edge. I bit back my yelp of fear and simply held fast to the side, closing my eyes tight. A few moments passed, when I felt a hand on my shoulder and I slowly and cautiously looked. It was the Northman I had come to see as my protector, even though I'm sure I was nothing more than a prize from their raid, meant to be sold as a slave like my grandfather before me. He seemed to care for me, at least somewhat and had been slipping me a little more food than the monks were given. But that may have been because unlike several of the monks who had clearly never missed a meal, not allowing me to eat was a common punishment when I refused to do what I was told.

Many times at the monastery, it reached the point where I would raid the henhouse and steal eggs to eat raw, just to have something to coat my gnawing stomach pains. The Northman must have taken pity on my in that regards given how small I am. Now he sat down next to me, cautious as if he was trying not to frighten me, his hand still on my shoulder.

"Njrod," he said slowly, placing both hands on his chest "Njrod," he repeated the word several times, each time emphasizing his hands to his chest, until I finally realized he was telling me his name.

"Njrod," I repeated pointing at him and he smiled wide, nodding excitedly.

"Goor!" he exclaimed and I could only assume that meant good. He pointed at me again, poking me in the chest, he wanted me to say my name again, but a few days of bouncing around, trying to not be sick I had forgotten the word in his own language, instead I took a deep breath and spoke Gaelic.

"Fitheach," I said and made a cawing noise like a raven would

"Ah!" Njrod replied "Hrfan." And I nodded, remember the word the moment he said it, it flowed easier off my tongue as I repeated it and he smiled patting me on the head hard.

"Seadh!" I exclaimed nodding my head quickly. Communication between us would be difficult, but I could tell I was already picking up more of his language than my grandfather had initially taught me and if I could learn English in a few months (thereby ignoring it properly whenever it was spoken to me by a monk), then learning the Northman's language should be simple enough. At least that was my thought until Njrod spurted out a long, long sentence that I could not follow and I felt my shoulders drop. Seeing my disappointment and lack of understanding, Njord patted my shoulder and even without words I could understand him, I would get better.

Njord was as anxious to teach me his language as he was to learn mine. He spent as much time as possible during the voyage showing me different objects and saying them in his own tongue then looking at me expectantly to not only repeat his Norse words, but also tell him the object in Gaelic. Though the other raiders didn't feel the same need to learn my language, they too began teaching me to speak and understand their strange words. I was still tied at the wrists, but strangely I felt at ease with the Northmen.

I could tell the monks at least the ones who had not shut down entirely were less than pleased by these lessons, especially by the fact I was so eager to learn our abductors tongue but had fought them tooth and nail against learning English, Latin, or even their Christian ways. Even though, I could understand English and Latin...they may not have believed I was listening, but in that regards, I was.

I knew I was still a prisoner and my fate was rested on the Northmen's intentions for me, but for some reason, I felt more at ease with the Norse than I ever had with the monks or the English soldiers who came into my village that day...demanding the village relinquish three children from the clan to the king. The soldiers had final say in which children would be taken, some, maybe all but all children in the village older than five winters were required to present themselves to the soldiers. This automatically excluded my youngest brother and sister. She was only weeks old and he was three winters. But my older siblings, my younger brother, and I all knew we were not safe.

We never knew when they would come, nor did we know how many would be taken to be turned into servants, foot soldiers, monks, whatever purpose they could find to Christianize us and slowly wipe out our beliefs, starting with the young. We knew from stories and warnings from other clans that sometimes the soldiers would take as many of the children that could make the journey, and slaughter the rest of the clan, the very young, the very old, and especially the adults who refused to convert and renounce the Celtic Deities.

I closed my eyes as the ship rocked back and forth lulled me to sleep, remembering how my life changed forever.

X-x-x

"We must run and hide, at least hide the children." My mother sobbed as we gathered around the fire, my youngest brother Brier, snuggled deep into my father's bear cloak, upset by my mother's tears. Moria, my wee baby sister simple cooed, not aware of our mother's distress or heartache my older brother and I exchanged a look and glanced at our father who sighed. He looked as distressed as mam but he's a warrior, he doesn't show emotions often. He looked at my older brother and sister.

"Do ye think I want to risk any of them being taken by the Anglish?! Or worse?" My father growled "who knows where they take 'em. What they do to them. If it wasn't fer Angus' boy escaping and coming back we'd never see any of 'em again." He paused and stoked the fire. "If they were to come tomorrow, they could take a few of the children and leave the rest of us in peace," my father looked at my older siblings and I, I was only nine winters, nearly ten, but I felt proud to be included in the conversation, at least somewhat. "Or they could do what they did in the east."

We all lowered our eyes away from our father, we knew of that incident, everyone did, only one clan had fought back against the English and the soldiers had slaughtered the entire clan, leaving only one elderly woman alive. They escorted her to the high chieftain of the east so that she could act as a messenger...the English were not to be taken lightly.

"We could hide, take the children and hide them." My mother argued "we've lived away from the clan before, we can do it again."

"And then what?" My father reminded her "if they are truly marching this way with the intent to take as many children as possibly, they will search the woods." He paused "and I wont run,"

"Neither will we fa," my older brother called, he yanked on my shirt and pulled me to my feet "we'll fight, let the Anglish come, we'll fight them."

My mother stood up and hugged me and my older brother close, nearby my younger brother let out wheeze from his bed, he had been sick for days, if the English did come and try to take us, my brother would barely make it out of bed, let alone out of the village, he would die or they would kill him.

My father stood up and clapped us both on the shoulder, I was not nearly as confident as my brother was, I had barely held my father's sword, let alone wielded it. But we would fight if they tried to take us, fight if they tried to slaughter us. We would not go down easily.

-x-x-x

The English had come, early in the morning before dawn, they broke down doors and pulled sleeping children from their beds, any adult who opposed them was brought down. By the time they reached our home, my father, brother, and I were ready, my mother protected my younger siblings as we stood ready to greet our unwelcome guests.

I'm not even entirely sure what occurred, I know my older brother was cut down right in front of me, his blood washing over me, my father had pushed me out of the way as another soldier swung his sword toward my neck, I had been so shocked I dropped the very heavy sword in my hand. One swift swing of the sword took my father down and as I was dragged out kicking and screaming, I watched in horror as my younger brother was pulled from bed and forced to follow me.

I heard my mother screaming and my youngest brother and wee little sister crying, all around us the village burned and neighbors screamed and cried. Apparently we were not the only family to fight back that morning, but like our clansmen, we were no match for the English soldiers, we were outnumbered and outfought. My brother, weak as he was clung to my arm tightly and coughed between sobs as we were dragged towards a group of our friends and kin, about six of us all together. As the village burned behind us the soldiers tied ropes to our wrists and around our necks, linking each of us together. We never had the chance to say goodbye to our families, or process what had just occurred right in front of us. Behind us we could still hear the screaming, some of the younger kids tried to turn around and run back to their homes, but that meant the rest of us would go to as the ropes were pulled tied and yanked us all off balance. Only a handful of soldiers joined the few that had tied us up, I couldn't tell where the rest of them were, but when I asked one of the older boys, he lowered his eyes in shame as we began to march.

"Sealing their deaths," he muttered "they violate our mothers…our sisters, when we are older we'll return the favor tenfold."

I remember looking back in horror, understanding why my older sister wasn't with us, why she had not been forced out of. I looked down the line of us, the only two girls in the line of us were younger than my sister; one was only seven or so while the other, Aileen was my age give or take, nine.

My brother was in line behind me and his sobbing had not stopped, but now it was silent tears, mixed in with his continued wheezing.

"Fitheach," he called "Fitheach where are we going?"

"I don't know," I replied trying to keep my own voice steady, I could hear my mother screaming for my brother and I, then screaming for mercy, her familiar voice blending in with the others in the village, young, old. "Stay with me Eoin, we'll get through this together. We'll come home brother I promise."

A clap of thunder crashed overhead and it startled me a moment, but I was still deep in my nightmare, I couldn't escape from the memory. I pulled my knees closer to my chest and hugged them. I had broken that promise to Eoin, not only would we get home, but we wouldn't even do it together, About a day into our long journey, Eoin couldn't keep up, he was pulling me back and the boy behind him was tripping over him. His coughing had ceased, but had been replaced with a hollow sound coming from deep in his throat when he breathed. When he finally fell, the rest of the line fell on top of him and the rope around my own neck, attached to his, yanked me down with such force that the coarse rope cut into my tender flesh. Eoin went down and did not get up, no matter how much I prodded and begged him, he could not get to his feet.

One of the soldiers came over to see who was causing the hold up and when he saw my brother laying there, he yelled at him, barking in their strange tongue, but still my brother did not move. Then the soldier began kicking my small brother and I pulled against my bonds, slamming my fists against his metal breast plate, knowing very well I was not going to do any harm to him, but I wanted his attention on me, to give my brother a chance to get up. The soldier did turn his attention to me, long enough to backhand me with his gloved hand, sending me crashing to the ground. Gawain, the older boy in front of me, had pulled me to my feet

"You cannae do anything for him now," he had whispered as my brother was pulled up by another soldier, his bonds were cut and retied to reconnect the girl who had been behind him with me.

I had watched in horror as the soldier who had first attacked my brother said something to the other one and with a flick of his wrist, chucked my brother to the side of the path as we began marching on again. My brother has weakly looked up and reached out to me, calling my name, begging for me to help him, sobbing as he realized we were walking away from him. I tried to get to him, tried to pull away, but Gawain made sure I followed, the line of us leaving my brother on the side of the road, to die.

I woke myself up with a cry, remembering my brother's face, it permanently imprinted on my memory. I looked around, most of the monks were asleep and several of the Northmen were as well, including Njord, the cloth billowed overhead moving the ship smoothly through the seas, even as the thunder roared overhead and the lightening crashed. One of the Northmen saw me staring up in the sky and he laughed loudly pointing to the sky.

He called something in his own language and laughed some more, only one word in the entire sentence was recognizable…Thor.

"Thor?" I repeated wiping a tear from my eye that had escaped during my nightmare. The Northman grinned wide at me and nodded his approval

"Thor!" he echoed holding his arms wide open to the sky. I was confused, my grandfather had said that Odin was the All Father, wouldn't that mean that he was the sky? Then it dawned on me, when my grandfather was naming some of the Northmen's gods…he had called Thor the God of Thunder and I understood. Thor was like Tannus, our god of Thunder.

"Thor!" I exclaimed as the thunder crashed again and the Northman jumped down so he was kneeling next to me

"yes!" he replied making sure I fully understood the word he was using as yes, it had only been a few days, but I knew I was picking up the language, slowly. "Thor God of Thunder and his mighty hammer Mjolnir!" I struggled to translate the words in my head, I recognized Thor and God had become easy to understand, the Northman made a movement with his hand like a hammer was that Mjolnir, did mjonir mean hammer?

"Mjolnir?" I repeated, making the same motion he had like I was hammering, at first the Northman stared at me in disbelief, then he looked at me like I was stupid

"hamarr," he said slowly, making the hammering motion again and I understood that, so hamarr was hammer, but then what was mjonir? "Thor's hamarr, Mjonir." Now I understood, Thor's hammer had a name, it was called Mjonir. I nodded showing the Northman I understood, he nodded back and patted my head before returning to his post.

Despite the storm, I could see the sun starting to peek over the horizon, I could also see the outline of land that had not been there when the sun had set the previous night. I pulled myself up to look closer and I felt a hand slap my back, not out of punishment, but just a friendly gesture, it was Njord, he was beaming with relief.

"Heimili!" he called spreading his arms wide like the other man had done during the thunder. This word I couldn't figure out and he pushed me again beaming "heimili!"

The other Northmen began repeating his word; they shook each other's hand, slapped their backs, and howled loudly.

It was then I realized what heimili meant…it meant home, at least home for the Northmen, for me I wondered what it would mean. Would it mean death, slavery, or life? As the boat aimed towards the outline these words began reciting over and over in my head.

"Arawn," I whispered, praying to the God of the Otherworld "please watch over me an' help me to return home someday, if I am to die on among these Northmen, please allow the Bean Nighe the strength to find me and bring me home, bring me to the otherworld with you an' my family. Somhlth, God of strength, I need you as well, help me be strong among these strangers and their gods."

Several of the Northmen heard my words, even though they didn't understand them, Njord included, but it was Mathus who recognized several of my Celtic deities and frowned, showing his contempt. I ignored him, what was ahead of us now neither of us knew and he had his god to protect him as I had gods, we both just had to hope they could reach this far.

x-x-x-x


	3. Chapter 3

x-x-x-x

Njord lifted me out of the boat and placed me on the wooden planks of the docks. After sitting down for so long and swaying back and forth, I nearly lost my footing. Njrod steadied me with me with his hand on my shoulder and once he felt I was good, he turned his attention back to the ship.

Another Northman who I didn't recognize, grabbed my cloak and pushed me into line behind the monks. I stumbled into Mathus and he turned to glare at me. This glare didn't last long as a rope was tied to his already bound wrists and connected to mine, linking us.

I quickly looked back to Njord as the line of monks began slinking up the docks through a cheering and yes mocking crowd, towards a huge structure, smaller than the monastery, but larger than any other building I had ever seen.

Njord was helping to unload sacks of gold and other pilfered treasure from the monks, but I was desperate to get his attention, afraid to be separated from him, I felt a connection with the Northman who took me who had protected me, I felt I would be safe as long as I remained by his side, like I always felt with my father.

"NJORD!" I yelled and tried to turn my whole body around, Mathus kept walking, his head held high, praying to his god; he yanked the rope so I stumbled, my bare feet tripping on some loose planks.

The Northman who had grabbed me reached over and smacked the back of my head with his big bear like paws and I bit back a cry. My head throbbed and my feet ached, I tried to catch Njord's attention.

Njord finally glanced up and saw the desperation on my face, he gave me a comforting smile, putting his finger to his lips, telling me to be silent. I took a deep breath, fighting back my tears. I had trusted him not to kill me, I had trusted him to look out for me, I had no choice, but to continue to trust him now.

I couldn't understand any of the Norse words being shouted as I struggled to keep up. Too much Norse being yelled and screamed made it tough to understand and the laughter was just as bad.

Most of the taunts were directed at the monks, proudly displaying their gold jewel infused crosses, loudly praying to their god to watch over them and grant them strength, clasping their hands together in prayer. I was clearly an afterthought, most of the villagers took no notice of me; save for a few children my age, who tugged on their parents' clothes, gesturing to me, pointing, some giggled some looked at me with sympathy. The few adults who did notice me, whispered amongst themselves, studying me.

The procession stopped in front of the great lodge and a man dressed in fine furs approached the Northman Einar, a no nonsense warrior who had shouted repeatedly every time the other Northmen slipped me extra food or taught me their language on the boat. Einar had led the procession thus far and halted the group with a single look.

Still holding the rope, he greeted the well-dressed man and I wondered if this was a king...did the Norse have kings? Or did they have chieftains, men and women more powerful and important than any English king chosen by the gods and goddesses themselves.

Einar gestured to the line of us and to the riches being unloaded and the man seemed very pleased...who wouldn't be, the priests and monks stored treasures and riches like animals store food for the winter.

They coveted gold and silver, they steal it from the people of their own faith who are looking for an easy way to enter their heaven to atone for deeds they have done or by selling pagan children to the nobility, even after promising the king to convert and civilize them. I had seen this happen first hand, two days after the soldiers had handed me over to the monks; a well-dressed man on horseback with several soldiers came to the monastery.

I was kept locked in a small room with Aodan and two other boys. The monks were keeping us in the room to basically tire us out, hoping that limited fresh air and limited food and little contact with the monks might weaken our resolve. Though the real weakening we would find out would come the following day when they separated us going with the solitary idea so we couldn't influence each other.

However this particular day as we fought and pushed each other to gain a fresh breath of air from the one window in the room, we watched the nobility and his soldiers ride up. The well-dressed man never dismounted his horse instead one of his soldiers approached the priests handing them a sack.

The main priest, whose name we never learned examined the contents of the sack, and even from our room we could see how pleased he was, we saw the glint of gold in the sunlight and stared in awe at the riches below us. He snapped his finger and a boy none of knew even existed was brought out by to monks, he looked terrified and had clearly been crying.

Though he was dressed in better clothes than us, the boy's mannerism and physical appearance was like ours, he was a Celt, but subdued, like all the fight had been driven out of him, leaving only a good Christian boy like the Monks wanted to turn us into. He couldn't have been more than seven or eight, the same age as my younger brother.

The soldier examined the boy and looked at the nobleman who nodded his approval. The soldier took the boy by the shoulder and escorted him to his horse. Once the boy was on the horse and the soldier sitting behind him, the party left. I never knew exactly where the boy was taken and we never knew his name or how long he had been at the monastery or where he was from. We just know that the nobleman took him and he was not the last boy would we see taken this way and I'm sure was not the first.

A hand being placed on my shoulder not only brought me out of that memory, but made me jump as well. I had to hold back my excitement at seeing Njord standing there. He called out to the two men, namely the finely dressed one, using a word I distinctly recognized, lord.

So I had been right, the man with the furs was important, a chieftain or a king I still wasn't sure, but definitely respected. Keeping a firm almost protective hand on my shoulder, Njord gestured to me, speaking loudly and excitedly. The lord nodded and said something to Njord, gesturing for him to come.

A knife flashed out of the corner of my eye and for a brief moment I felt the cloak of the Bean Nighe washing over me, before the rope binding me to Mathus was cut and Njord led me towards the lord and the great lodge.

The lord spoke once more, addressing Einar, he nodded and led the line of monks down another path and out of sight. I wondered for a moment if it was the last time I would see the monks, part of me hoped it was. I had resented their presence in my life for almost a year now, they were my enemy, my people's enemy, and the enemy of my gods...but as Mathus vanished around the corner with not a glare in my direction, but a look of concern, I felt a shiver of dread and loneliness wash down my spine.

As much as I hated the Christians and especially the monks, they were familiar...what was ahead...namely through that doorway into the lodge was the unknown and therefore frightening.

Njord led me through the doorway and I blinked as my eyesight adjusted to the dimly lit room. This felt familiar...animal furs on the floor, creating a soft rug to sit or lay on, glowing embers from a dying fire that kept the large room well heated in almost a comfort atmosphere. I smelled meat slowly cooking in the belly of the fire pit and my stomach growled a little. Meat was not something us boys had been allowed to eat at the monastery and now smelling it, I was ravenous for it.

Meat was reserved for the monks, the rare visitors, the faithful; the monks refused to let us eat it, afraid we might revert back into our savage mannerism. When we did get meat it was from our own findings, such as raiding the chicken coop and swiping eggs to at least coat our pained empty stomachs with something. Withholding food was a typical punishment and the monks used the promise of meat to encourage our conversion. I'm fairly certain that's what drove the two younger boys whom I had been brought to the monastery with, to accept the Christian god, if only for the promise of decent food. It had been almost a year since I had tasted meat and I could feel myself drooling a bit as my mind conjured up the memories of pork, fish, rabbit, deer, or even the rare elk melting in my mouth.

A woman joined the group, she embraced the lord with such a familiar way that i could only assume they were husband and wife. The pair sat down on the two throne like chairs, covered in animal furs and skins. Antlers adore the top of the chairs and from my height and angle it appeared the man and the woman themselves bore antlers, I had to stifle a snicker because of how humorous it looked, thankfully none of the adults noticed, which I knew was a good thing, the last thing I needed to do was offend this obviously very important Northman and his wife.

Standing next to me, Njord began to speak, every once in a while he would gesture to me, turn me around, hold up my hands still bound in front of me, and even once he lifted me into the air as easy as if I had been a small goat. The entire time the lord and his lady listened intently, nodding every now and thing and gesturing when they asked a question.

Finally, Njord turned back to me and simply said:

"Tala orr ma'l" _speak our language_... I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out, not even a whisper, Njord gave me a slight push, but I still couldn't form the words. I was so hungry, so thirsty, I couldn't stop staring at the pig roasting on the spit, it smelled so good it was all I could think about. "Tala!" Njord commanded, ordering me to speak he raised his hand, about to push me again when the woman stood up.

She said something sharply to both men and proceeded to slice a small piece of meat off the pig, which she placed in my hands.

I looked at her dimly, half confused half hesitant. When I didn't eat right away she smiled and made an eating motion with her hands. Not needing any more permission than that I gobbled the meat up so fast I didn't even taste it, which I instantly regretted.

Not missing a beat, the lady cut off another somewhat larger piece and as I ate it this time I savored the juices and the salty taste that woke up my taste buds.

She proceeded to pour some liquid into a clay cup which I took gingerly. I sniffed the contents but didn't recognize the smell, but thirst was plaguing my body as much as hunger and I took a long sip. It was sweet, with a hint of bitter, certainly enough to quench my thirst, but not enjoyable enough that I wanted more, at least not yet.

When the lady took the cup from me the lord and Njord looked at me expectantly and the lady gave me a comforting, encouraging smile.

I recited the words that had stayed Njord's sword in the barn and the few words I had been taught from him and the other Northmen. The latter words for the most part I had no idea what I was saying, the other Northmen hadn't been very helpful in translating the words they were teaching me. Regardless of what I was saying the lord and lady seemed pleased and spoke rapidly to Njord, nodding their approval. The lord gestured to me and Njord smiled, he pulled out his knife and cut the ropes binding my wrists.

The moment the coarse rope fell off, pain enveloped my wrists. Having been tied like that for almost a week had left my wrists sore and bleeding. I rubbed the raw skin and clutched both wrists to my cloak, almost hiding them beneath.

The lady clapped and another woman hurried forward, the lady whispered something to her, looking at Njord and the lord accusingly, as she gestured to me. The woman left briefly but returned with bits of cloth, herbs, and what I could only assume was hot water.

The lady put an arm around my shoulders and guided me to the long table near the fire pit. She gently sat me down on the bench and sat down right beside me. My heart was racing so fast I could feel it humming. I wasn't use to the treatment, not since the last time I felt my mother's arms around me, holding me tight, right before the English had come, had I experienced compassion and care like this.

The lady whispered to me and even though I didn't understand her words, the tone was soothing. The other woman joined us, sitting on my other side and while the lady stroked my hair, the woman took my right hand. She dabbed warm water on the cuts with a cloth and the herbs and the sting made me instinctively pull back, I didn't cry out, I had come to realize that the Northmen prized bravery, just like my own people did and like my father had taught my brothers and I warriors do not cry from pain, we use it to make us stronger and smarter.

The woman was gently, but firm as she held tight to my hand, tending to my wounds. The lady held me close, continuing to whisper to me. Once both wounded wrists were cared for and wrapped in cloth the lady patted my head and stood up.

The other woman gathered up her materials and giving my cheeks a quick pinch, bowed to the lady and the lord and made herself scarce. Njord gestured for me to return to his side and like a trained puppy I did, quickly. He patted my shoulder and gestured to the lord and lady, who both resumed their seats.

"Hrafn," Njord introduced me to the pair, patting me on the shoulder and I remembered the Norse word for Raven, Hrafn, my name in Norse…was that to be my name from now on? My name had been changed so many times in the last year or so I couldn't keep up with it. _Fitheach_ , I repeated in my mind, _my name is Fitheach, Raven_ …Little Raven, my mother always called me. "Jarl Alstad" Njord added, gesturing to the couple.

 _Jarl...Jarl..._ I repeated the word in my mind, it wasn't a word I had heard before, but the more I thought about it, the more it sounded like an English word...Earl. The lord was actually an Earl, but I wasn't exactly sure what an Earl was either. I also wasn't sure how to respond, how do you address an Earl?

We never bowed to our chieftain, at least not like the monks had done to the nobility when they came to the monastery. My father always nodded his head and I suppose that is like bowing, so I did that, hoping it showed some kind of respect.

"T...Tapadh-leat." I stumbled, the Gaelic word for thank you escaping my lips and I winced, the Earl and the lady exchanged a look before he started to laugh.

"Hunt ma'l?" He asked

"Skozkrm" Njord answered

Haroldson seemed pleased and interested by this. He asked Njord another question in their language and Njord answered quickly.

Unlike with the monks, for some reason I was desperate to learn the Northman's language, I don't know why, maybe because I was curious, maybe because their culture was so similar to my own it felt right, or maybe deep down I knew unlike the monks who might just beat me and deny me food, the Northmen might outright kill me just because they could.

Becoming like them, assimilating to the Norse culture was about survival and if I was to ever get home, back to my own lands and my own gods I needed to survive.


	4. Chapter 4

x-x-x-

I had naively assumed Njord lived in the village, so needless to say I was surprised when we bedded down in a barn like structure. I kept expecting for the ropes to return but they never did. Njord handed me a blanket and made himself comfortable not far from the door. As I stood there in shock I realized that I could easily leave this place and no one would stop me. Njord was already in a deep sleep, I could hear the roar of his snores and knew he wouldn't stop me. I couldn't believe what was happening I wasn't considered a prisoner and I certainly wasn't considered a slave, at least I didn't think I was.

What kind of slave is allowed to roam at will and potentially run away from his master? But then again where would I run to, I was so far from home I couldn't even begin to guess how to get back, with my luck I would end up further from home and in worse company.

Njord had cared for me and clearly meant to look out for my wellbeing and the Jarl and his wife, she had shown me a kindness that I hadn't experienced in at least a year. Was the unknown really worth the risk? If I was to return home to my land to my people I would have to be smart and strong not stupid and impulsive, if I proved my loyalty proved my willingness to learn the Northmen's ways I might be accepted as one of them I might be able to grow up as one of them and go on raids. It was such long time to think about, I was only ten. I would have to wait years before I would be given that opportunity if I ever was.

Sighing I curled up against the far wall of the barn covering my whole body with the blanket. I was exhausted and hadn't realized it, the rocking from the ship was engrained in my mind and my body still felt like it was rocking with the waves, but believe it or not this actually helped me fall asleep and as I drifted into a dreamless slumber the last image in my mind was my parents, promising they were with me...they would always be with me.

Njord shook me awake just before dawn and I sleepily stood up following Njord to the door, stumbling over my own feet and the blanket which I dragged. The village was still asleep, but hints of the day breaking on the distant horizon over the water was beginning to stir movement.

I could smell a fire being rekindled and felt my stomach growl as the smell of something cooking wafted past my nostrils. Njord walked steadily and I had to take three steps for his one as we walked back to the large building. Njord patted me on the head saying only one word which I assumed meant stay as he disappeared inside. While I stood there, bedraggled I looked around anxiously.

Some of the villagers were emerging from their dwellings and a few kids my age raced out towards the water. One boy a little younger than me stopped short and looked me over carefully.

He gave me a push muttering something in his language and I couldn't understand it. He repeated it and pushed me harder. I felt like he wanted me to fight back, but I couldn't. I didn't want any trouble and I really didn't want to anger Njord, besides this kid was smaller than me in height but thicker. Clearly he had been well fed.

He poked me harder with one hand then picked up a stick he had dropped when he first spotted me and proceeded to poke me with the stick which I'm assuming was his idea of a sword.

When poking me with it didn't work, he smacked me hard with it on the arm. I clenched my fists and felt my whole body tense up.

I wanted to hit him, pummel him, but I wasn't sure if I would be punished for that. Not only punished but I might get Njord in trouble as well. But when he finally smacked me with the stick across my ear, which stung worse than any whipping the priests had given me, worse than the ropes that had dug into my neck and wrists, worse than any other pain I had experienced thus far, that was my breaking point.

I yelled and lunged at him, tackling the younger boy to the ground with a thud. He dropped the offending stick even though he desperately was trying to hold onto it. But the shock of me actually retaliating dumbfounded him and he was slow to respond. I took hold of his shirt collar and began slamming him into the soft ground, his shock wore off quickly as he wrestled to get at me.

I had the initial hit and the benefit of shock, but now that he had recovered from that he would definitely have the upper hand, he may have been younger than me, but he outweighed me, was clearly more experienced at wrestling than I, and easily stronger. I had wrestled with my brothers and friends of course, a knockdown drag out wrestling match was always a good way to settle disagreements among each other. But I hadn't had that experience in over a year, I was in a strange land, with strange customs, strange language that I barely spoke, and had this kid around my brother's age picking a fight with me.

Even so I did my best to hold my own as we rolled back and forth over the dirt, I wasn't going to win, but I was determined not to lose either. He'd get a hold of my clothing and yank, I'd get his arm and try to pin it down.

I don't know how long we tussled like that, he was stronger than me, but I never let him get the upper hand. We were both tiring, that much was clear, but neither one of us were willing to admit it, nor would either of us back down.

Finally he got me on my back and pinned me down, before I could react or defend myself he pulled his arm back and walloped me, his fist connecting with my nose. I saw stars immediately and felt blood begin to pour out of my nose.

I let loose a growl and slammed my own fists towards the boy's face, I didn't care what I hit. I just needed to hit something. Turns out, what I hit was his mouth, I know for a fact I split his lip, but at the same time my fist collided with one of his teeth and cut my knuckle. Before the scuffling could get any more out of control, we both froze at we heard adult voices is coming towards us.

Of course the freezing only lasted for a few seconds as we begin wrestling again only to be yanked off of each other by unseen fists that grabbed our shirt collars and pulled us apart. We were both scratching and clawing trying to get at each other again like wild animals, but whoever held us kept this far enough apart. I looked across and realized in that the man who held the boy was the Jarl. I winced as I slowly look behind me realizing Njord had my collar in his firm grasp.

Njord gave me a good shake, hoping to knock any more fight out of me and the Jarl did the same with the other boy. I looked the other boy over, getting a better look at him now, his face was bloody from his lip, and it was streaming down his face, but underneath the blood I could see the striking resemblance to the Jarl...this was obviously his son. I had just fought the Jarl's son and bloodied his lip.

I felt cold wash over me and I bit back my tears of horror. The chieftain's sons were much older than I, around my older brother's age and I know they must have had their share of fights and matches, it's normal. But those were expected and no one was punished for fighting the chieftain's sons, both boys would be knocked on the head, given a good thrashing by their respective fathers and sent back to play.

I didn't know how the Northman's culture worked...and I was terrified that it would not end well for me.

To my surprise however both Njord and the Jarl burst out laughing as they released us, Njord lifted my head up to examine my bloody nose and gave me a proud pat on the back. He was proud of me...pleased with my actions, the Jarl was giving his son a similar reception.

I couldn't understand what Njord or the Jarl were saying, but whatever it was, it seemed like they were complimenting each other. Njord let me go and I winced as the Jarl did the same with his son, I expected him to lunge at me but he didn't, he grinned at me and wiped his fist across his mouth, smearing the blood from his lips before he took off down the path. Seeing his bloody face reminded me of my own injury and I dabbed at my nose tenderly with my fingers. Njord saw this and placed a hand on the back of my neck, guiding me away from the Jarl and towards the water's edge.

I panicked again, unsure what he was about to do, but relaxed a little as he pushed me down into the sand and splashed water on my face, cleaning off the blood that continued to drip down my face. I could taste it and watched as Njord cupped his hands and mimicked picking up water and splashing it on his face. I did this and then took a mouth full of the water, rinsing the blood out of my mouth. Once the blood was cleaned off my face, Njord looked me over and nodded his approval.

"You fought well," he said in his own language and I grinned a little, recognizing the words and recognizing the compliment, he wasn't mad at me, he was proud of me, proud of me for fighting the Jarl's son

"Really?" I asked in my language and I winced realizing that Njord probably wouldn't understand it, but he smiled and gently smacked the back of my head, a gesture I was beginning to learn was not done out of angry or hostility, but out of care.

"Really," he repeated in Gaelic. He stood up and took hold of my arm pulling me to my feet. I followed him back up the path where he left a few belongings. He put the straps of a smaller bag over my shoulders and made sure I had it before he let it go, picking up the remainder of the supplies, including his shield and ax, I admired the ax as I adjusted the strap so it rested better around my neck and shoulders.

Njord stood up straight and spotted me looking at the ax and I winced, lowering my eyes. He chuckled and took my hand placing the ax in it, before releasing me and letting me try holding it on my own. I think I lasted five seconds as the weight became too much for me and it pulled my arm down, embedding the ax in the ground. Njord burst out laughing and patted me on the back, he took the ax from my hands and replaced it with a pair of boots, I stared at the boots in shock and Njord gestured to the boots, telling me to put them on, I sat down on the ground and pulled the boots on, they were much too big for me, but I think that was the point, I could grow into them, just like I would grow into the strength to hold the ax.

I looked up at Njord and grinned, giving him my silent thank you. He grabbed the back of shirt collar and yanked me to my feet. When he saw me walking funny he rubbed his chin and lifted me up, so my feet were dangling, the boots fell off easily and I winced as Njord plunked me back on the ground, he rubbed his chin again and reached into his satchel to pull out some bits of leather and rolled them up in ball, he also took some wool and shoved all of this into both boots. He snapped his fingers and gestured for me to put the boots back on, they were still a little big on me, but better than before.

Njord made sure I was set to go, before he started walking down a thin path, that clearly led away from the village. I hesitated for a second or two, taking a deep breath, readying myself for the next step and the road, wherever I was following Njord to.

x-x-x

The walk was long, rocky, and difficult to navigate. I'm sure Njord could have made the journey much faster without me in tow, but I also got the impression he did not mind the slower pace and I did do my best to keep up with his long strides. The boots he had gotten me were far too big, but the alterations he added with the leather and the wool kept them on my feet much better and they weren't as awkward. This made the walk tricky, but I handled it and kept up with Njord.

As we walked, he continued my language lessons and I began to remember many more words than before, to the point where I could understand even somewhat converse with Njord, at least on a basic level.

The landscape of this land was amazing and I took it in as much as possible as we walked. It was so similar to the Highlands, but different in its own way, it felt different, it even smelled different.

The journey took two whole days, so we made camp as the darkness spread out across the land. As I settled down near the fire, I pulled the blanket made of skins tight around, me even though the night was fairly warm. I stared at the stars, blinking and twinkling until my eyes finally closed and I drifted off to sleep.

x-x-x-x

I had to blink a few times as I took in my new surroundings, I was in the highlands…I was home, at least it felt like home, but it was different, the air smelled strange and the sounds I heard were not the normal sounds I had been born hearing. I heard a voice on the wind…and it was calling to me. I took a timid step forward and the wet grass dampened my thin shoes. I was no longer wearing the boots that Njord had given me which led me to another thought, where was Njord. Frantically I looked around, but did not see the Norseman

"Njord!" I called "Njord!"

"Fitheach…" the voice called again, and I realized it was my name it was calling "Fitheach, come to me," it wasn't just calling my name, it was speaking my language. I squinted trying to see through the thick fog that appeared out of nowhere and had blanketed me.

"Njord?" I called again only to be answered with my own name

"Fitheach" it was a woman's voice, that much I was sure, but she sounded old, like the Bean Nighe was closing in on her.

"Hello?" I called out "whose there?"

"Fitheach, come to me boy…your place is not among the Northmen…they are not your people," the woman explained and I pushed through the fog, part of me wanted to see her and find out who she was, the other part of me wanted to turn the other way and run.

"I know they are not," I replied "but I did not have a choice."

"There are always choices, to live…to die…to accept…to betray."

I felt my body go numb

"Betray…? I didn't betray anyone I do not accept their Gods, I know of them that is all." I felt sick and I reached for the voice "I was with the Christians for a year I never accepted their god. No matter what they did or said!"

I blinked and in a flash of light I saw a figure coming at me, I'm certain it was a woman, but it was difficult to tell, she wore a dark gray cloak and walked slowly towards me, her hand pointing at me was the only reason I was certain it was a woman. Her hand was thin and boney and it was stretched out towards me. I took a step back, as another flash of light lit up the sky, showing her face, she was ancient, older than anyone I had ever seen and I recognized her…not from seeing her before, but from stories, stories my grandfather had told me and my siblings, this was Cailleach, she's the Goddess of disease and plague.

I winced as I heard a growling and stepped back, my heart beginning to race with fear….Dormarth, her large vicious dog, who guarded the gates to Death. The dog was a slick furred animal, that you couldn't tell if it was covered with water or blood, with glowing red eyes that penetrated right into your very being. I have never been afraid of any animal, but this dog truly scared me, its hairs were raised and it was lowering itself down to the ground, ready to attack on the slightest command.

I stepped back further, preparing to run.

"Fitheach" she cackled "Raven, your name means Raven, you are linked with darkness and death and that brings only suffering. You are cursed Little Raven. Your family suffered, all those in your path will suffer and be taken to the other world one by one and that is on you."

"Why?" I whimpered "I didn't do anything,"

"Your time with the Northmen will be long, you will learn much and grow strong. You will return to your land, return to your gods, but you will have a decision to make. Betray the gods and people you will soon embrace or defend them, betraying your own people, your own gods and becoming the very thing that you fear, what your people fear." She paused and the dog growled again "you will have a choice boy, what you choose will have repercussions, either way."

"What kind of choice is that?!" I screamed "I just want to go home, I want to be with my own people."

"That will not happen. Your choice is yours to say, but the goddess have the final decision. You are the Raven and are destined for death and servitude."

My stomach dropped and I felt sick, destined for death? What did that mean, I know all must die eventually, but destined for death?

"I don't understand." I couldn't help it, tears were running down my cheeks.

"You will in time," Cailleach explained, she came closer and I tried to back up, but I was frozen to the ground, I couldn't move, I couldn't even blink. She placed a hand on my head and I felt a shudder wash over my entire body. "You belong to us and you belong to them, you are of three worlds young one, the mortal world, my world and Odin's world..."

I felt myself falling backwards and when I did, I didn't hit the ground, I hit water…deep water, I couldn't touch the bottom and I swallowed a mouthful of water. I kicked and struggled trying to keep my head above water, but it was impossible, the calm water was turning into a raging sea, a wave crashed over my head pushing me back down beneath the surface.

"Help!" I yelled, choking on more water "help me!" I couldn't swim I couldn't stay afloat, especially not with the waves. I began sinking beneath the waves, deeper and deeper. I could see the blurred figure of Cailleach and her dog, they were standing on the surface of the water looking down at me…watching me drown.

x-x-x-x

"NOOOO!" I screamed sitting up, drenched in sweat, Njord was also startled awake as he leaned over me.

"Hrafn?" he exclaimed "Hrafn, hvat's rangr?" (what's wrong?) he helped me sit up and waited for an answer, silently asking if I was okay.

I nodded

"Ja," I replied, he nodded and stood up, he put his hand down to me and when I took it, he pulled me right off my feet and let me dangle for a few seconds. I couldn't help it, I let out a burst of laughter and Njord joined me, his loud booming laugh echoing through the clearing. When he dropped me, I landed on my feet and he patted my head. Njord gathered up his belongings and I picked up the satchel and followed the northman back on the path, the dream still fresh in my mind.

The second day of walking was actually easier than the first, I think I was getting used to the terrain and I had an easier time keeping up with Njord's long strides. By the afternoon we climbed a very steep up hill and at the very top, Njord grabbed my shoulder and pushed me forward, gesturing down the embankment. A small farm rested at the bottom, in a little valley, nestled next to a river that ran not far from it.

"Heimili!" Njord exclaimed spreading his arms out to the farm below us, he smacked me on the back "heimili,"

I looked at Njord and then at the farm,

"heimili," I said softly following his gaze, home, but for how long how long would I call this place home and what more what of my dream…was it more than a dream was it a vision and if it was a vision what kind of future did I have?

As we walked down the path a woman came out of the house. She was as tall as Njord, but not as muscular, but she was stronger looking than my mother. Behind her two girls came running, one was younger than me, around the same age of my younger brother, seven or eight, while the other girl appeared to be older than me, not by much maybe a winter or two. Something seemed to catch the younger girl's attention and she looked towards the hill, spotting Njord. She shook the older girl and pointed excitedly. The woman turned to the girls and followed them with her eyes as they began running towards us.

"Fadir!" they shouted "fadir!"

Njord grinned wide and walked down the path to meet them, both girls jumped into his open arms

I couldn't understand the words that were exchanged between father and daughters, but I could imagine them. He was telling them how much he missed them and how much they had grown, they were telling him about the farm and all he had missed in the months he had been gone. The woman joined the family by now and she kissed Njord as he moved the girls out of the way to hug his wife, those gestures were familiar too, it was like seeing my parents together, the girls were still chatting away and I wished I could understand more than a word or two, I was also unsure what I was supposed to be doing, so I kind of hung back.

This wasn't for long however, because the older girl noticed me, she tapped Njord on the shoulder and pointed at me. The woman and the younger girl followed where she was pointing, the woman looked between me and Njord and began speaking to him, loudly, gesturing towards me.

Njord followed his family's gaze up the hill towards me and he chuckled, waving for me to come down. I did so timidly, I could see even with the distance his wife was less than pleased with my presence. As I walked closer to the group she seemed to glare at me and that glare only intensified as I got closer.

Njord however was un-phased by his wife's reaction to me, as he patted me on the back pulling me closer to the group once I was in arms reach.

The two girls looked at each other then looked at their mother before looking back at me, a little one seemed excited while the older one seemed a little suspicious wearing the same kind of look on her face as her mother. I had picked up enough of Njord's language to understand his introduction, as he gave the family my name, my Norse name before continuing to introduce his family. The girls names were Eir the little one and Hildr the older girl, while his wife's name was Helga.

Once the introductions were over, Njord said a long sentence to the girls pointing at me, I had not picked up enough to understand that particular sentence, but I was able to kind of guess what he was saying he was asking the girls to take me on a tour of the farm. Once again Hildr the seemed hesitant, while Eir took hold of my hand and dragged me off towards the pen where all the animals were. She was talking so fast my brain couldn't translate it, my limited experience with the language was putting me at a severe disadvantage when it came to the girls, I knew I would have to learn quick if we are going to understand each other.

I glanced back at Njord and Helga, she was gesturing towards me and definitely looked angry even a little scared. I couldn't understand how she could be scared of me why would I have scared her, if anything it was the other way around. I couldn't hear the pair of them, and even if I could've, I wouldn't have been able to understand them, however the gestures were enough for me to understand and I could easily fill in how the conversation was going.

"Why would you bring one back with you?"

"he is only a child, we couldn't leave him there to starve."

"He is one of those Christians that Borjard spoke of, he is not like us!"

"He is not a Christian, he is a Celt."

"And you know this how?"

"He told me,"

"How?!" she paused "never mind…they worship false gods! What will the gods think of such a creature sharing our house and our food?"

"He understands our language he understands our ways. The Celts are more like us then we realize. The Christians were starving him, beating him, trying to get him to renounce his gods."

"And we will not do the same? He cannot worship his Celtic gods in my house I will not have the girls exposed to it."

"He has already proven himself not only willing to learn our ways, but accept the gods. What will you have me do Helga, take him to the woods and leave his fate to the gods?"

"That is exactly what I am proposing. You find this boy and decide to bring him home to our family. With no thought to the safety of your family."

"My thoughts are always with my family's safety. But the boy is not a danger."

"He will grow...like a wild animal he will grow and become more of a danger than he is right now. He is small, weak, and easily disposed of. The older he becomes the stronger he will become and when you wake up to a sword on your throat what will you do then?"

Njord burst out laughing, his blooming laugh echoing through the farm causing both the girls and I to look back at him in curiosity.

"Any bloodlust this boy has, is not directed at us it is directed at the Anglish and the monks that took him"

"Took him?"

"I was able to get a general idea of his story. He was born in the north, at least a weeks walk from the coast and the monastery we raided. He was kidnapped by the Anglish. Their attempt to stamp out the pagan ways of the Celts, by focusing on the younger generation."

Helga's face changed a little, she now had a sympathetic look that briefly washed over, before changing back to the concern for her family.

"so you felt the best thing was to take him even further from his home?"

"There is nothing left to his home, the Anglish took the children and destroyed everything else."

"How do you know this?"

"His dreams. Nightmares really he told the story in his sleep and I understood enough of his language to figure it out. And what he was not able to divulge was fairly easy to piece together, it made sense as to why a Celt would be with the Christians and clearly against his will. The Anglish seem to have a raider spirit to them. Any bloodlust or sense of revenge Hrfan has is directed only at those that took him initially. He will grow to be a fine warrior and will long to return to his land for the sole purpose of avenging his family. We will not be the target of his rage." Helga seem to sigh, unsure what to say or even do "they would have killed him Helga, the Anglish soldiers would have come to the monastery and found him the only survivor, by default he would've been blamed. I believe them to be more ferocious and blood thirsty than we are."

"I don't like it Njord and don't even think for a moment this Celt replaces Igar and also don't even think that I will accept him as anything but a foreign guest and I put that lightly in our house."

Njord smiled and shook his head

"of course my dear, that is fine."

I would revisit this memory many times as I grew older, and as my understanding of the Norse language was perfected I could hear the conversation replaying in my mind only I would understand it. I'm not entirely sure how I heard anything, let alone remembered it as both girls were carrying on a full one-sided conversation with me, oblivious to the fact I couldn't understand them. Even Hildr seemed to warm up to me a little. But not as much as Eir who began naming off all the sheep in the pen.

I looked around the farm I actually began to feel at home, feel safe, this place reminded me in a way of the home I had been taken from, the home that I hoped to return to someday. But as Eir continued to rattle off in her own language, in the back of my mind my dream from the previous night continued to play over and over and I couldn't help the shudders that swept down my back.


	5. Chapter 5

x-x-x

Even though she clearly did not trust me, Helga wasn't about to be less than hospitable towards me. As the family settled in around the table for supper I stayed back…I may have went out of my way to ignore and even annoy the monks, but one rule stayed firm in the back of my mind, I eat last and the food put out first is not for me.

In an attempt to entice us away from our ways, the monks would force us to stand just out of reach of the table, while they gorged themselves on meat, vegetables, wine, and bread, making sure the smell of the food hit us hard. This was engrained in my memory and I instinctively waited, my body was tense with the thought that if I took one step towards the table I would be whipped, but hunger gnawing at my stomach just the same.

Helga exchanged an annoyed look with Njord as he passed food around to the girls and himself, he was tearing meat off the bone when he felt the icy glare of his wife hit him. He followed her glare over to me and stopped eating.

"Hrfan," he called gesturing for me to sit, Eir grinned happily and scooted over leaving plenty of room for me between her and Hildr, she joined her father in waving me over and after a moment of hesitation I gave in, shuffling forward and carefully sitting on the bench between the girls.

Helga sighed and plunked a bowl and a mug in front of me, while Njord filled the bowl with a stew like fare, Eir handed me a spoon and Helga filled the mug with a liquid that somewhat resembled the drink from the Jarl's home. Njord chuckled when he saw me hesitating and gestured for me begin eating, as the girls and Helga (who had sat down next to him) began doing just that.

I was so hungry I would have eaten anything put in front of me and the stew not only tugged at my sense of smell, but sent my stomach roaring. But I was still hesitant on the customs and could still feel the switch that the monks had first hit me with when I attempted to eat. They had cruelly the first few days we were at the monastery refused to feed us anything but a crust of bread. So by the time a few days of this had passed and they they marched us into a large dining hall, sat us down on benches at the table and placed an abundance of food in front of us, we were all practically starving. The skin of the meat was still crackling from the head and I know I was personally salivating from the smell. However every time one of us reached for the food placed temptingly in front of us a monk was waiting with a switch, ready to strike the hand that tried to take the food. My hand still stung all this time later from that experience. So I was not in any hurry to experience that again.

I watched Eir carefully for a second and when she looked up and our eyes met she reached over and pushed my bowl closer. Not needing anymore of a hint than that I dug in. The moment the food touched my lips, instinct took over and I shoveled the food in as fast as I could, ready to replenish the sustenance I had lost while living with the monks. After a minute or two of my shoveling I paused, looking up when I heard giggling, Eir was beside herself with laughter and even Hildr and Njord were trying not to laugh. Wincing I glanced at Helga, but couldn't gage her emotions,

"sorry" I said softly, utilizing one of the words I had picked up on the boat. Instead of reprimanding me or even sending me away from the table, I saw a smile slowly emerge from the corner of Helga's mouth, it was a quick twitch and then it was gone, but that was all Njord needed, he burst out laughing.

"It is good? Helga asked and I nodded quickly

"Very," I replied

"Good" she nodded with satisfaction and poured more of the stew into my now nearly empty bowl, before saying something else in their language that I did not understand. I must have looked confused, because she sighed as if she was frustrated, but clearly was still pleased by my reaction to her cooking, she gestured to the pot resting over the fire and I understood her words immediately, I was more than welcome to eat as much as I wanted. I returned to my dinner a little slower than before, but still thankful to have it at all and there was no denying Helga, even though she wouldn't admit it, was pleased as well.

x-x-x

After dinner, Njord stoked the fire and began telling stories of his raid in England. I listened carefully picking out the words I knew and recognized and concentrating on learning the others as quickly as possible. Taking the story and his gestures helped me pick the words apart and I was slowly able to learn them.

The girls wrapped themselves up in blankets and listened just as intently as I did. Njord was very energetic when he spoke, so it was easy to guess the pieces of his tale in detail, just from his gestures especially when he reached the part of the story that involved me.

Helga sat off to one side, pretending she was wasn't listening as she stitched, but every once in a while she would pause her work and listen. I must have entered the story at one point, because Njord gestured to me and both girls looked my way, almost…sympathetically and I wondered what Njord was telling them. My curiosity only got stronger when Eir slid out from her sister's side and taking the bearskin blanket with her, came over to me and tucked the fur around my shoulders, like she was trying to keep me warm and safe.

Thank you Eir?" I managed to say, hoping I was using the right words. She smiled warmly at me, almost motherly, before skipping back to her sister. Njord chuckled as he continued his story, I stole a glance at Helga, unsure how she was going to respond to Eir's gesture, but she was also smiling, just like she had at dinner a small, pleased smile almost hidden.

When Njord had finished his story, Helga gathered the girls up and the moans and protests I heard from them was all too family…she was sending them to bed and the complaints were just like how my siblings and I always responded to bedtime.

Both girls ran over to Njord and he scooped them up in a bear hug, kissing them each on the cheek, before sending them back to their mother. Eir took a detour and came over to me, hugging me around the waist and saying something rapidly in her language that I could not make out, I'm also not sure I really heard it, it might have been her bidding me good night, but I was suddenly overcome with emotions I hadn't felt in months…the gestures and process of a family getting ready for bed was so familiar so lacking from my life over the last year…

It was like being back with my own family, but at the same time I knew my family was gone, knew I was probably the only one left and I also knew I would never again feel the warm embrace of my mother, stroking my hair as she rocked me…I would never again be lifted up in a bear hug by my father, taking in the smell of the highlands that was always on him. I would never see my baby sister grow up, for all I knew she was dead, like my younger brother Eoin, dead on some hillside. My youngest brother Artair he was probably dead, the English would have murdered him and my sister, they were too young to be of any use.

I knew my older brother Edan was dead, he had been slain right in front of me by the soldiers, with my father when he tried to protect me. My older sister Caoime, she was the only one aside from my mother I couldn't be sure of, she hadn't been with Eoin and I when we were dragged from the village, but I could only assume she was dead as well.

I felt a pang of jealously join my heartache, I was jealous of Eir and Hildr, jealous that they still had their parents to love and protect them and send them off to sleep, while I did not, while mine had been taken from me.

I was not Njord and Helga's child, I did not know if I ever would be even on that same level as the girls…and I knew if I ever did, I would be too old to be held, too old to be protected. I was ten after all, in a few short years I would be a man, I wouldn't be a child anymore, I only had a short time left to be a child and be cared for and because of the English soldiers I had lost that, lost my family. I wanted my mother, I wanted my father, and all my siblings…I wanted my clan back, I wanted my home back.

Tears began running down my cheeks and though I felt ashamed and felt weak I couldn't stop. I began choking out words in my own tongue…mother, father, home… I repeated these words over and over.

Njord who had been heading for the door stopped and exchanged a look with Helga who watched me. The girls poked their heads out of the bunk they were sharing and looked at one another with a mix of concern and fear.

When I repeated the Gaelic word for mother, maithair Helga's eyes went wide as she seemed to understood what was going on and why I was suddenly breaking down.

"I want my mother…" I sobbed in Gaelic, it wasn't directed at anyone, it was to myself I couldn't pull myself together. I pulled the bear skin tighter around me, hiding my head, partly in shame, partly in an attempt to comfort myself, hoping the skin would feel like home…it didn't, it felt strange around my shoulders and oppressive.

"kyrr, kyrr, shhh, litt einn, shhh," I suddenly felt arms wrap around my shoulders, holding me close and Helga's voice whispering as she sat next to me, rocking me gently, trying to calm me down. "Hrfan it is all right to cry." She added and I looked up at her, I had understood those words.

I swallowed another sob and took a deep breath, trying to compose myself, I didn't want to cry anymore, I didn't want to embarrass myself or appear weak to Njord and his family, but Helga repeated her promise that it was okay to cry and I let her pull me close. I cried for my family, for my mother and father, for my younger brothers and baby sister, for my older sister and brother…I cried for my homeland and for my clan and all those who had been seized by the English and lost.

I cried for my gods and way of life, knowing how much they were feared by the English and knowing that the English were determined to wipe my culture out… I cried for the future I would have had and cried for the unknown future I would have with the Northmen.

All the tears I had been holding back, that I had turned into a fight against the monks now came in the form of defeat and acceptance…I couldn't fight anymore I was tired and done and ready to accept whatever the gods and goddesses had in store for me and my fate, even if that fate was not with the gods of my people, but with Njord's gods.

When no more tears would come, Helga brushed my hair back from my eyes and gave me a comforting smile, a far cry from the woman who had dismissed me and seemed ready to turn me out to the wilds to protect her children only hours ago. She looked at Njord and said something to him quickly, he came over and lifted me up from my seat and guided me to the door, the bear skin dropping from my shoulders as we walked through.

He walked me over to a trough of water and splashed the water on my face, before letting me take care of it myself. He gave me a minute or so to breathe and I took a deep breath, dunking my head deep into the water, wishing for a moment I could just stay under water forever and never emerge.

Njord had other ideas though as he grabbed my collar and gently yanked me from the water and patted my wet head.

"are you okay now?" he asked slowly and I nodded

"I'm sorry." I managed to weakly say, I was so worried that I had ruined my chance at being accepted by Njord and Njord's family I had shown weakness and I knew that would not be tolerated, I would be nothing more than a slave, working for them for the rest of my life, however long that would be. Njord put an arm around my shoulders and guided me back to the house "Njord," I called, "I'm sorry," I was becoming more comfortable with the language, at least through a few words, they flowed easily off my tongue.

"You are fine." Njord said gently and I hung my head. When I did, Njord smacked me on the back of my head, not hard, enough that I felt it and knew it done not out of meanness, it was the way I had accepted he shows affection, at least towards me. He brought me back into the house where Helga was waiting. At the door, Njord gestured to my boots and I carefully slid them off, he pushed them with his own boots out of the way and deposited his own next to them.

I looked around the house for a moment as Njord and Helga exchanged a nod. The girls were in a large bunk, partially hidden by branches, Eir was pretending to be asleep, but I could see her watching us, Hildr joined her, looking over her shoulders.

Helga walked over to me and took a deep breath and I lowered my head. She untied the cloak that I was still wearing and gently placed it on the table, she also pulled my thin shirt off and I heard Njord stifle a growl.

Helga gently turned me around and I winced, hiding my head in shame and she gasped. I knew what her and Njord had seen, my back covered in scars and healing wounds. The switch had done its due diligence and in the hands of the priests had left me with some marks I would carry the rest of my life.

I refused to meet Helga's eyes and when I glanced up at Njord he was rubbing his beard, thoughtfully, almost…angrily, not directed at me, but at those who had marked me.

Quickly I lowered my gaze and Helga hesitantly reached over and stroked my head again, she picked up a long shirt from the table and pulled it over my head. I still felt defeated, finished, but I also felt detached from what was going on, like I had no control over my movement or what was happening to me.

Helga guided me to a bunk similar to the one Hildr and Eir were "sleeping" in only it was slightly smaller and I realized one of the girls had given up their bunk for me and were sharing instead.

Njord came over and lifted me into the bed, it was so warm, so cozy I hadn't felt anything like it in over a year, the monastery was not known for being warm and cozy, even in the summer months. Carefully I laid down and Helga pulled a blanket up over me, tucking me deep. She never said two words to me the entire time, it was all gestures and movement, but I was so appreciative of what her and Njord were doing for me, even after my behavior following dinner.

As Helga dimmed firelight to a gently glow, I snuggled deep under the thick animal skin, the straw that made up the bed's mattress conformed to my body. My body still ached a bit from the heaved tears and my eyes were sore from rubbing them, but the pain was fading as sleep took hold and for the first time in what felt like centuries, I did not dream, but fell into a peaceful sleep.

x-x-x-x

The morning light filtered through the thatched roof and gently poured onto my face, slowly waking me up. I rubbed my eyes and looked around, unsure at first where I was and what had happened…before it all came back to me. I was with Njord's family and…I winced remembering the events that had transpired the previous night. I carefully swung my legs over the edge of the bunk and lowered myself to the floor.

I looked around trying to figure out where everyone was, I saw a leg sticking out of the girls' bunk and laughed quietly realizing it was Eir, she was practically falling out of the bunk. I didn't see Hildr however and realized she must have already gotten up. Not far from the bunks was a closed door and I could only assume that was Helga and Njord's sleeping quarters, but I didn't know if they were awake yet either.

A clucking noise caught my attention and I followed it to the front door, poking my head outside. Hildr was out in the yard, feeding the chickens that pecked around her feet. She paused and looked my direction when she felt me watching and she jumped a little, clearly startled.

"Sorry," I whispered, holding up my hands stepping outside, I wasn't entirely sure where my shirt had ended up after Helga had pulled it off of me, I'm pretty sure she had gotten rid of it, it had certainly seen better days and even though I was used to it, probably smelled something fierce.

Hildr looked at me and back at the chickens, before saying something to me that I didn't quite understand. I must have looked confused because she sighed, with a look very much like her mother. It was clear that Eir took after Njord while Hildr was like Helga, in both physicality and personality. She repeated what she said only slower, but I was only catching a word or two.

"Early," she repeated pointing at me and then pointing up and I understood this time around, she was telling me I was up early.

"Yes," I replied, I thought my words over carefully, hoping I was pronouncing them correctly "can I help?" she looked at me suspiciously for a moment and I winced realizing that not only did she still not trust me, but she was actually scared of me, even though I was younger and definitely smaller.

"Chickens are done," she replied and I felt my shoulders drop, I wanted to help, not only to show I was capable of being useful, but also because I wanted to be accepted by the family…the whole family. "Eir always feeds the goats and sheep, but she is still sleeping?" Hildr continued and I nodded, I understood most of what she had said and was able to piece together the rest fairly easily, I was also able to figure out she was asking me a question.

"Yes,"

"Of course. Come on then, you can help."

I carefully followed Hildr towards the goat pen. They greeted her with gusto, jumping up at her and baying for her attention, when I followed her into the pen some kept their attention on Hildr, but some were curious enough about me to trot over and give me a good sniff down.

Timidly I reached over and scratched the closest one between the little nubs of horns, that had always been Mathus's favorite spot and apparently it was universal of all goats because this goat had the same content look in her eyes.

Hildr looked over at me and I saw her stifle a giggle as the rest of the herd came over, all ready and willing to demand head scratches from this new person and before I knew it I was surrounded.

"Are you sure your name isn't Goat Master?" she asked with a knowing smile, the first real smile I had seen in regards to my presence and I shook my head, easily understanding her words "I don't think Raven fits you," she added as the largest goat began rubbing her head up and down my leg, taking it upon herself to scratch her head since I was taking too long.

I tried not to laugh as I shrugged.

"My mother…" I said slowly carefully pronouncing each word and even though I'm sure I mixed up a few, Hildr seemed to follow along well enough. "Always called me her Little Raven. Ravens cause…" I wasn't sure what the word for upset was, so I mimicked as best I could at being unsure, lost and even a little crazy, and Hildr giggled a little I think she understood what I was trying to say "and I was good at causing trouble." I paused thinking to myself the other reason my mother named me Fitheach…she had told me many times the story of a dream she had while pregnant with me, how in the dream a woman who hid her face had spoken to her about the son she carried and his connection to the fairy world…as a messenger. Of course this dream just made my mother keep me closer as a young child. I was rarely out of her sight because she feared the gods might flit me away to serve as the messenger as her dream predicted. My name of Raven… Fitheach was her way of accepting the dream and the message, but defying the prediction at the same time.

"Hrfan?" Hildr called, bringing me back to her and I shuddered for a moment, remembering the dream I'd had two nights before… of Cailleach and her plans for me and my future.

"Sorry," I said to Hildr, she nodded and handed me a small bale of hay and taking one for herself, she filled the manger with the flakes. I followed her lead and did the same, the goats were forceful, but gentle as they pushed us out of the way, determined to get to the hay first.

"Þakka fyrir" Hildr said as we backed away from the goats and left the pen.

"We…" I paused, realizing I did not know how to say you're welcome…I understood 'thank you,'

Hildr smiled gently when she saw me struggling

"Ekki at þakka" she said

"Ekki at…" I started to repeat and she nodded

"Ekki at þakka" she said a little slower, making sure I not only heard it, but heard each word as well.

"Ekki at þakka" I said, though it came out rough, but she seemed pleased with my attempt because her smile widened and she nodded.

"Ja!"

It was definitely going to take a lot of work, but I was making progress…slowly. As I helped Hildr finish up the morning chores, (basically her pointing at something and gesturing to help me understand the task that needed to be done), she also pointed out various objects and gave the word for them, helping me to improve my vocabulary.

She was just helping me repeat the word for farm when the door to the house flew open and Eir scampered towards us, she threw her arms around my waist and hugged me, before rapidly telling me a story. I must have looked confused, because Hildr began to laugh.

"Sorry Hrfan," Eir called when she realized I didn't understand a word she was saying. She took my hand and dragged me over to the pen Hildr and I had just come from, before she could say anything Hildr joined us shaking her head at her sister. She sighed and whatever she said to Eir, made the younger girl hang her head. I may not have understood Hildr's words, but I could infer that she was reprimanding Eir for not taking care of the animals like she was supposed to.

I took a deep breath and gently stepped in between the girls

"It…" I struggled to say "it is okay Eir, I made a new…" I paused, trying to remember the word for friend and remembered it was one of the words that had saved me in the barn that had kept Njord and the other Norsemen from killing me, "friend," I finished and Eir beamed at her sister, misunderstanding me when I meant the goats, she thought I meant Hildr. Hildr giggled and rolled her eyes again at her little sister. Hildr may not have accepted me as swiftly as her sister had, but clearly she was no longer afraid of me and perhaps…even though it had only been less than a day, maybe she was a new friend…and like Eir, maybe a sister.

x-x-x-x


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm not a fan of putting these in the beginning of fics, but I wanted to make sure this was clear, if the character is speaking with "" they are speaking Gaelic, everything else is Norse. Thank you everyone and hope you enjoy this update, I am still continuing this fic and will have the next chapter uploaded hopefully in the next couple of weeks.

x-x-x-x

The ax felt heavy and awkward in my hand and it was only a small hatchet like weapon, nothing like Njord's double sided one that I often admired and once or twice tried to pick up, only to have it drop painfully onto my foot. The shield was just as heavy, but not as awkward, at least I could grip that. It too was a small, but for me and my strength it pushed my ability to the limit. Not to mention I wasn't exactly coordinated to handle offense and defense at the same time, I was barely able to handle one of them.

"Hold the shield eye level Hrfan, let it do its job, let it protect you." Njord instructed "good boy, now come at me, full attack do not hold back!"

I did as my father asked, but couldn't help my wince as I prepared for the blow that was sure to come, I could attack Njord until I passed out, I couldn't block him no matter how hard I tried.

Almost six months had passed since Njord had found me hiding in a barn at the monastery. Six months since I had last spoken my own language with another. I had survived the winter with Njord's family and spring was fast approaching. I had spent the long winter months learning all I could about the Norse culture, I perfected the language and the customs and felt accepted into the family. I readily called Helga and Njord mother and father without hesitation and I think even Helga had accepted me more than she expected.

I had come to learn from my new sisters that there had been a brother, Igar. He was about my age, from what I had learned and had died the winter before Njord's raid that brought me to the family. I wasn't entirely sure what had happened to him, I knew it hurt my sisters to talk about their brother and I wouldn't dare ask Njord or Helga. I had clues however as to his fate, all winter long Njord kept me close by when we would leave the hut.

One particularly cold day we went ice fishing and he would not let me out on the ice until he had walked a path back and forth from our spot to the shore and back again as if he was testing out the ice, even though it had been frozen solid for weeks. I could only assume by Njord's behavior and by Helga's over protectiveness of the girls and sorrow whenever she looked out the water, that Igar had tried to go out onto the ice and had fallen in. Given the fact that I could not swim and had been utterly shocked by the bitter cold that came with winters in these lands, I understood the family's concern and even their heartache. I could also relate to Igar and the fear and pain he must have felt in his final moments.

I shuddered as Njord's commands to pay attention called me back and he looked at me expectantly. Knowing exactly how this was about to play out I took a deep breath and swung the ax at my adoptive father. As I expected he easily evaded my pathetic attack and pointedly knocked me down on my rear into the muddy pathway that made up the front yard.

Njord shook his head at me and I winced.

"I'm sorry father," I muttered, Njord didn't reply as he reached down and yanked me up by my shirt, pulling me to my feet.

"We will keep working Hrfan, you're getting better." I gave a sarcastic short laugh, I was getting somewhere, but it wasn't better. We had been at this for weeks and I was clearly not getting better. I was a failure. So far the only thing I had learned was that the mud was not as soft as it seemed and my body was drawn to it.

My people did not typically fight with battle axes, nor did we use shields like the Norse did, in fact in the many times my father went off to fight in the clan wars, he carried his sword, his dirk, and sometimes a quarterstave. I was pretty good at small daggers, I was strong enough and nimble enough to use small daggers effectively and I was coordinated enough to use the quarterstave, in fact more times than not that was my weapon of choice and I loved training with my father using it…but my most effective weapon was the sling…I was a killer shot with a sling and had gone hunting several times with my father and brother and I could usually bring down whatever we were hunting with a couple of well-placed shots. But as I had seen when trying to defend my family against the English, I was useless with a large sword in actual combat and clearly an ax wasn't much better.

But again, I was good with a sling, I knew how to make one too, the materials were easy enough to use, I just needed to find them. It might give me not only a fighting chance, but a chance to prove to Njord I wasn't useless…I could be taught to fight.

"Hrfan!" Helga called from the hut

I brushed the mud off my clothes and looked at Njord who smiled and nodded, pushing me towards Helga.

"Aye?" I called out, scampering towards my adoptive mother.

"Hrfan, Eir left the gate open again and two of the goats escaped, I hate to imagine they were able to go far, but would you go retrieve them for me?"

"Of course," I replied grinning at my good fortune. As I had said, all winter long the girls and I were kept under very strict watch, cabin fever had set in pretty quickly for me since I was accustomed to having the freedom to go as I pleased (aside from chores) with my real family, before the English.

So the brief taste of freedom I had before winter came bearing down on us was enough to set me off exploring and taking in my surroundings, it had been the best few months of my life and had made me really appreciate my new home…but not being able to do any of these things alone for the winter months was enough to drive anyone mad.

Taking the small dagger Njord had presented me, a rope, and a satchel of grain tied around my waist to entice our little friends, I scampered off towards the woods tracking the goats. One thing that that Njord had learned about me and was very impressed by was my tracking skills. He had taken me hunting several times before winter and during it and no matter what I could usually track down whatever beast he was after.

That was why Helga had asked me to find the goats instead of making Eir do it even though it was her responsibility to lock the gate, she knew that I would not only find the animals quicker than my sister, but unlike Eir, my dawdling would come after the goats had been returned to their pen. Eir tended to find pretty flowers and start to pick them as a gift to our mother, completely forgetting her task.

I veered off the path that led away from the house and climbed one of the many rock features, if I knew the goats like I did, the first thing they would have done would be to climb high and that was exactly where I would find them. I could see where the earth had been disturbed and when I looked closer I could see the distinct imprint of cloven hoofs, two distinct sets. I knew instantly which goats had escaped and could only groan. It was two of the smallest and youngest billy goats, they were sneaky and I could see how they would manage to escape the pen with or without help from my sister.

Once I was level again I quickened my pace, closing in on my little friends…the first was not difficult to find, she baa'd at me and went back to munching on the grass and flowers that covered a clearing not far from the cliffs. I knew I had something much tastier than the grass so I shook the bag of grain and her ears perked right up, she let out another baa and walked gingerly towards me.

"Silly goat" I replied to her in my own language as I scratched her head between her horns. She baa'd at me again and butted me gently, demanding I produce the promised treat, which I did. She nibbled the grains from my hand and when those were finished proceed to try and stick her nose in the bag, looking for more food. "why'd you come out here, don't you know there are bears and wolves, just looking for a tasty goat to gobble up?" the goat looked at me doubtful and I chuckled "or what about trolls?" I asked switching to Norse, now the goats eyes went wide as if she could actually understand me.

Sighing I started to tie the rope around her neck, but she started walking back in the direction I had just come on her own. I watched her carefully as she headed down the path, I knew I should probably follow her just to be sure she made it back to the pen in one piece, but I still had the other goat to find and I knew she would be the trickier of the two. In private I called her Loki, I was slowly understanding the stories of my new people and had come to some conclusions regarding several of the gods, including Loki. I called the goat Loki in secret because I wasn't sure if it would be an insult or dangerous to name a goat after a god, even a trickster one.

Unlike her companion, Loki was further away from the house and I had to be cautious as I walked, I was entering a part of the forest I was not familiar with and the last thing I needed to do was get lost while I was hunting for the blasted goat. To mark my way, I took several long blades of grass and gently tied them to the branches of the trees, ensuring that I would be able to find my way back as long as those markers remained.

I moved deeper into the woods and as the sunlight all but vanished through the leaves, I spotted something laying against a tree. I knew getting distracted was a bad idea, but I was curious and moved closer, it was a rucksack and attached to it was the remains of a skeleton. The skeleton was leaning against the tree, with a dagger imbedded deep in its ribs, the rucksack clutched tightly in the boney fingers.

My heart began to race and I felt like I was going to be sick. The body had clearly been here for a long time, but I wondered why…I had observed the customs surrounding death with the Northmen, especially people of prominence, but even the poor were at least given a way to reach Valhalla provided they died in some kind of battle...

I started to back away from the body, I had no desire to disturb the dead, but I stopped when I heard a familiar baa coming from behind the thick tree. I carefully sidestepped around the body and looked on the other side the tree, laying in a pile of leaves, quite content was Loki…she looked up at me with a knowing look in her eyes and continued to chew whatever she was munching on. She did not look alarmed or even remotely ready to follow me back home.

"Come on," I called, stepping closer, I wanted he to move, but at the same time I had a feeling she would be moving back the other way, in other words running away from me simply because she could.

I shook the bag of grains and this mildly perked her interest, before she went back to her chewing, clearly whatever she was eating was much better tasting than the grain I was offering. I took another step towards her and she jumped a little, acting as if she would bolt if I came any closer. Behind my back I took the rope out of my belt and slowly knotted it to make a clear noose. I would have one shot at this and one shot only, I had to make it count.

I was just about to lasso the goat when a scream echoed throughout the forest, I dropped the rope in fright and Loki took off in a flash, luckily heading for home, at least I hoped she was.

The scream came again only closer this time and I started to run, following the goat, but before I could take a step, something ran into me…tackling me to the ground hard, instantly my world went black.

x-x-x-x

" _Ah, so we meet again?"_ A voice entered my mind and slowly opened my eyes, I was no longer in the forest, but in a cave…lit by torches I could not see a way out, an old woman sat across from me, her boney fingers resembling the hands of the skeleton in the woods. What really surprised me was the language…she was speaking Gaelic, not Norse

"You speak my language?" I asked quickly and she cackled at me as if that was a stupid question, which in all fairness it technically was.

"You do not know who I am do you boy?" she asked, hobbling towards me, instinctively I scrambled back, my body hitting the cave wall within seconds and I realized I was trapped. Quickly I shook my head and she glared, sighing.

"Fitheach, Fitheach, Fitheach," she repeated my name shaking her head as if I had disappointed her. "You have spent far too much time with the Northmen," she explained "you are losing your ways,"

I had to take a guess as to who this old woman was, I knew I had seen her before, but at the same time I could not be sure what this experience was…was this a dream or was this really happening? Was I really in a cave speaking to someone from my own people?

"...Cailleach?" I guessed and she nodded, now I knew I was dreaming I had to be…just like that night Njord and I spent outside, on our way to his home, when I had dreamed of Cailleach… "this is a dream?" I asked and she glared at me a little

"Perhaps little Fitheach, but perhaps not."

"What do you want from me?!" I exclaimed "I had no choice in coming here, I'm learning the Northmen's ways only to survive, to get home." I paused "If I die here, in these lands will the Bean Nigh honestly come for me? Come to take me home? I doubt it, I'll be sent to Hel, not Valhalla, I'll never get home."

"Where is home Little Fitheach?" Cailleach asked, reaching for me and patting my cheek with her boney fingers, sending a shudder down my spine, her touch felt like death… "the Northmen claim you as their own, but you will never be one of them, our people claim you as their own, but are you truly one of us?" she paused "did you not wonder why your mother named you after the Raven? Did she not tell you?"

"She told me it came to her in a dream," I explained, my heart was racing so fast I feared it would leap out of my chest.

"Aye, it did, her third child born on the night of Samhain, born between two seasons, brought to the world by the Ravens themselves, destined to return to them…"

"I don't understand any of this!" I admitted

"You will little one, someday soon you will…you will return to that which you belong, but it may not be where you would like." she paused and placed a hand on my forehead, her hand was cold to the touch and once again I felt death wash over me "it is time for you to return to the Northmen, but remember, you are not of their world, nor are you the world of the people you call your own…you belong somewhere else…"

"Where!" I yelled "where do I belong!?"

"Soon…Fitheach, soon,"

Before I could respond the cave began to fade and I was no longer sitting on a boulder, nor was I laying in the forest, I blinked…I was in a house…laying on a cot, it was not my…I mean Njord's… house, it was smaller and an old woman was standing near the fireplace, tending to a pot of something. An old man, wrinkly and scarred from years of battle was carving by the fire at the table. I pulled myself up onto my elbows and looked around, the old man looked up when he heard me rustling about and nudged the woman.

"He's awake," he said and the woman turned around, she too was old and wrinkly, much like the old man, she came over to me and dabbed at my forehead with a warm cloth and I winced, backing away from her, she reminded me far too much of Cailleach and she was still fresh in my mind.

"Easy boy," the woman cooed "I will not hurt you."

Now the old man limped over and studied my face.

"What is your name boy?" he asked, his tone gruff and demanding. I felt mouth go dry, part of me didn't want to answer and the other part knew I had to.

"F…" I started to say, before correcting myself, moments ago, albeit in a dream I had spoken my own language and though I wanted to keep doing that, I knew I could not, so quickly I changed my words. "Hrfan," I answered and the old man studied me for a moment, before he finally smiled.

"Ah, Njord's boy?" he asked and I nodded, quickly

"Yes,"

"I'm sorry if I frightened you Hrfan," the old man said "my name is Jorund, and this is my wife Inga."

"Hello," I said softly and Inga smiled, she walked away from the cot for a moment, before returning with a mug of hot liquid, which I accepted and carefully drank.

"So what were you doing out in the woods Hrfan?"

"Looking for a pair of goats that escaped," I explained "I found one of them quickly, I had just stumbled on the second when…" I paused "everything went black."

"What do you remember before that?"

"A body…I found a body laying against a tree, with a dagger in its chest. The blasted goat…she was on the other side of the tree, I had almost captured her when someone screamed…it's all blank after that."

"Ah, so you found the remains of Ol' Thord?"

"Old Who?"

"Thord lived near that tree you found him at, as mean as they come. I'm an old man Hrfan, Thord was nearly ready for the afterlife when I was a young man, but everyone always said he was too mean to die, no one would accept him wherever he went…Valhalla would have shut the gates and Hel would have done the same."

"So how did he end up like that?" I asked, not really sure I wanted to know the answer, but at the same time my curiosity was at an all-time high.

Jorund shrugged

"No idea, was walking through one day and found him like that, leaning against the tree, rucksack clutched in his hand, dagger through his cold heart."

"Why was he left there?" I asked "if you don't mind me asking?"

"Every time we tried to move his body that scream you heard came, it reached the point where the Jarl offered a reward to anyone who could remove the body, many have tried, all have failed, that scream, it goes right through you, it feels like death."

I winced, _it sounds like the Bean Nigh_ ,

"Jorund, stop frightening the boy, he doesn't need to be hearing those tales, you best show him the way home, his family will be wondering where he's gone off to." Inga reprimanded her husband

"Right, sorry my love," Jorund replied, he smiled and gestured for me to follow, as I slid off the cot, something caught my attention, sitting on a shelf was a leather strap, the exact type of material I needed for a sling, it was missing a few pieces, but those were pieces I could add myself. My father had taught me. Jorund followed my gaze and looked back at me, confused "what is it boy?"

"Sir, would you be willing to trade for that strap of leather?" I didn't have much on me, the dagger Njord had given me and the bag of grain for the goats.

"This?" Jorund asked, pulling the leather strap down and handing it to me

"Aye," I replied "I…I can trade you my dagger, it's not much, but…"

"What could you possibly want with a strap of leather?"

"To make a sling," I explained

"Show me."

I knew I needed more material to make the sling work properly, but as it was right then I could still do some damage. I walked outside and Jorund followed, Inga was clearly curious, but watched from the doorway. I picked up a rock about the size of a baby's fist and carefully placed it in the leather strap. Feeling self-conscious with an audience I took a deep breath and began spinning the strap before I let go of part of it, letting the rock fly at the target, a tree with aging bark. The rock smashed into the tree and pieces of the bark fell off, leaving a clear imprint from where the rock had hit.

"Interesting weapon," Jorund murmured, rubbing his beard "and you can do that every time?"

"Sort of," I replied "the strap as it is isn't complete, I need to add to it to make it a proper sling, but that's the general idea."

Jorund, chuckled

"Keep the strap boy, I think you'll have more use than I." I reached to my waist and began to pull the dagger out of the rope around my waist, but Jorund held up his hand shaking his head. "No, no trade necessary, but when you finish that sling of yours, I want you to come back up and teach me how to use it, fair enough?"

I grinned and nodded

"Very fair,"

"Come on boy, let's get you home, I'll show you a easy way to go so you can come up and visit Inga and I, that can also be part of our deal."

x-x-x


	7. Chapter 7

x-x-x

Jorund's strides I'm sure long ago were as long as Njord's and like Njord's I would have once been forced to run to keep up with him, but age had slowed him down and his slow gait allowed for a slow pace. I had picked up just of his language to converse with him at ease and without making too much fuss over it, Jorund seemed to understand that Norse was not my native language and purposely spoke clearly and slowly, gesturing as much as possible. He was most interested to learn about the sling and how it works and as we walked I demonstrated several times the ease the weapon could be fired. My memories of my grandfather on my mother's side are faded, I was only a few winters old when he passed away, but old enough to remember his demeanor, how I felt being around him. It always felt different than my father or brothers or my grandfather who taught me the Northern ways and walking with Jorund I felt the same way I had felt with my grandfather and I couldn't figure out if it was because of his age or if it was because that was just how he was.

I'm not entirely sure how the discussion came to it, but eventually it moved to my ability with the ax or lack thereof and how I felt that I was disappointing Njord every time I landed in the mud.

"It is something you will learn in time Hrfan," I didn't answer Jorund at first, instead I reached down and found a rock, the strap wasn't a perfect weapon just yet, but I was skilled enough with it where I felt comfortable shooting a few trees as we walked, mainly to avoid Jorund's expectant look. "Hrfan?" He repeated my name as I let the rock fly, it ricocheted off a tree and the old man pulled at his beard thoughtfully, unable to deny the fact he was impressed by the sling. "You know boy that sling of yours will do some damage in battle, even when you get older and if you learn to handle an ax or a sword like you do that sling you'll be a fine warrior, like your father," he smiled proudly "like me."

"I've never been a decent swordsmen," I admitted "honest, the sling is all I have going for me."

"An ax is not the only weapon a warrior can carry into battle. When Ragnarok comes and the gates of Valhalla open Odin's warriors will carry many different weapons in his defense." I bit my tongue, I had no desire to defend Odin or worry about Ragnrok, when that happened my plan was to be in my own Otherworld, not heaven, not hell, not Valhalla, with my own people and my own gods, I just had to make sure that when I did die, I avoided Odin's Valkeries, I was not going to Valhalla. But I also knew I had to play the part, I was part of Njord's family I was his son and as his son I had to at least appear that I dreamed of the day I would reach Valhalla. I looked up at the old man and held up my sling "yes even a sling, but a sword might be of use to you Hfran. Has Njord tried letting you wield a sword?"

I shook my head

"No, he is sure I can master the ax it will just take some time, either that or he will eventually." I admitted and Jorund laughed, but I knew he was not laughing at me.

"Oh Njord is a stubborn one he is…always has been," I raised an eyebrow curious at Jorund, wondering just how long the old man had known my adoptive father. "The ax is Njord's weapon of choice, but it might not be yours," Jorund paused and looked around the forest floor "grab those two sticks," he added nodding, I had a feeling I knew what he was doing, but I let him go and did as he asked. He took one of the sticks from my hand and held the other up in a defensive stance. "Come at me boy," I looked at the old man trying to be respectful, but at the same time convinced he had lost his mind. "Let's go Hfran, you're not going to hurt me with a stick you know." Sighing I did as Jorund asked and swung at him with the stick, he defending himself and even though I expected the stick to break upon contact, both sticks stayed intact and after the initial couple of swings, Jorund put his hands up in surrender, rubbing his beard with one hand and tapping his boot with the stick. "Interesting," he finally said after a moment or two.

"What is?" I asked and Jorund chuckled

"Seems I was right about your fighting style," I glanced down at the stick in my hand and hoped I didn't look as confused as I felt, knowing it was probably rude. "With training you'll be able to handle both a sword and an ax with ease, but you're like me Hfran, you're built for a sword."

"You can tell that just from me swinging a stick around?" I asked, dumbfounded but trying to keep it out of my voice

"It'll take some time to truly know, but yes my young friend I believe I can tell." He paused and patted me on the back, nearly knocking me over but I was used to this from Njord so I simply braced myself and was ready for the blow so to speak. "Let your father work with you and the ax, when you come up to visit me we'll work with the blade."

I nodded grinning, I didn't think there was much Jorund could really teach someone as useless as me, but I wanted to spend time with him and Inga. As we continued back towards my new home I began to realize just how late in the day it was getting. The sun was beginning to set behind the trees slowly and dusk was approaching. I hadn't thought I was that far from Njord's home, but began to wonder how long I had truly been asleep in Jorund's house. When he caught me looking towards the sky Jorund smiled gently and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry my boy, I will explain to your parents what happened."

Explaining to Njord and Helga what had happened wasn't going to happen straight away, the moment the house came in sight, the hounds caught my scent and began howling with excitement, alerting the family to our approach. Njord and Helga came rushing outside and before I knew what was happening Helga had swept me up in her arms, hugging me tight, shocking me.

I hadn't expected my adoptive parents to be this concerned about me, well at least not Helga. She had come far from her initial disproval of my presence in the house and my readiness to call her mother was something she never argued against. But other than quick little shoulder squeezes and brief hugs to warm me up after helping Njord outside, she had never gone quite as far as a warm motherly embrace, but this was different. She practically had me in the air as she held me tight.

The girls had joined us by then and while Eir looked ashamed, knowing she had been the reason I was off looking for the goats in the first place, (though a quick reassuring smile from me seemed to quash that guilt), Hildr on the other hand stared at me with a look of a mother. My adoptive sister was only a year or so older than I, but I know she took her role of eldest sister very serious, especially given how completely opposite of serious Eir was and I half expected her to start chastising me.

Njord embraced Jorund, pounding the old man on the back, laughing and thanking him over and over. They were speaking so quickly and Eir was apologizing over and over in my ear I couldn't quite catch what they were saying as Helga finally set me down.

"Jorund," she finally said, she embraced him and he gently kissed her cheek, the girls he scooped up in a hug one by one. "How did you ever find him?"

"Your boy here found Ol' Thord," Jorund explained "He did manage to knock himself out, that blasted scream came and gave him a good fright. Not the first of course, but left a decent mark on him." Jorund reached over and gestured to my forehead. Helga followed his gesture and pushed back my bangs, revealing the cut I'm assuming was there. Inga had cleaned dressed it, because I didn't even feel it.

I looked from Njord to Helga to Jorund to the girls in confusion, even though Jorund and I had walked quite a distance, we were clearly neighbors to Jorund and Inga so that explained how my family seemed to know Jorund, but the gestures seemed more familiar…

Hildr gave a shudder and hid closer to her mother, while Eir looked at me in astonishment

"did you touch him Hrfan?" she asked and I shook my head quickly "he's scary."

"I don't suppose you told Hrfan who you are then?" Njord asked with a chuckle and Jorund shook his head returning the laugh

"No, thought it best to get him home to you first before it got too dark. Let you make the introductions."

Njord grinned and threw an arm around my shoulders, months ago my knees would have buckled under the sudden weight, but I was expecting the gesture and my knees, my entire body it seemed was stronger for it.

"Hrfan, this is my father, your grandfather."

x-x-x-x

Helga of course insisted that Jorund stay for a little while and herded the entire family inside. Seeing Njord and Jorund side by side I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed the similarities in the first place. They were obviously father and son, their mannerism, speech, and the expressions on their faces. Eir climbed into her grandfather's lap as he drained the mug Helga had set in front of him,

"That is mighty fine Helga," he complimented, wiping his beard with the back of his hand

"how did that roof of yours fair the winter?" Njord asked setting a plate of food down in front of his father, Eir reached for some of the chicken, but Helga reached over and swatted her hand away. Not to be deterred, my new sister slid off Jorund's lap and made her way around the table. Helga placed a plate of the same dinner in front of Hildr and one in front of me, but Eir apparently was not getting any supper for the evening, her punishment for letting the goats out in the first place. Her first stop was Hildr's plate, hoping to sneak something off of an unsuspecting, clearly not paying attention Hildr. But Hildr either was paying attention or knew her sister's plan because she did the same thing Helga did and smacked Eir's hand away.

Eir made a face, as tears began streaming down her cheeks. I had lived with the family long enough now to know when Eir was truly upset and when she was putting on a show…this was a show.

"But mother," she whined and Helga gave her a look that put a stop to the tears right away. Eir looked at me, opening her eyes up as wide as possible and trying to look sad "Hrfan," she said softly, sitting down next to me and scooting closer as I tore off a piece of chicken from the bone "Hrfan, can I have some of that, please?" she sounded so sincere I almost considered giving in. But I looked up at Helga for guidance and she crossed her arms, a look on her face that clearly told me:

no.

I looked at my younger sister and gave her a sympathetic shrug. She stamped her foot and went over to Njord who chuckled, pulling her into his lap, he wouldn't give into her minor tantrum, but sitting in her father's lap seemed to smooth things over.

"Not bad at all," Jorund finally spoke up, answering Njord's original question "the roof is fine, might have to send a youngin up there before next winter to lay down some new thatch."

Jorund reached over and ruffled my hair as Helga sat down in between Hildr and me, she took a little bit of food for herself after making sure the rest of us had all we could eat, well minus Eir, who was still gazing longingly at our meal.

Njord started to slip her some of his bread, but the same look from Helga that stopped me, stopped him cold. I felt bad for Eir, but it was only one meal and I certainly understood my adoptive mother's reasoning, the goats were important to the family and it was careless of Eir to leave the gate open. Punishment was understandable and I'm pretty sure Eir was lucky she was only missing dinner.

"So you're sure you found him on a raid?" Jorund asked Njord, brining my attention back, I looked at Njord carefully, before looking down at my plate, pretending my dinner was the most fascinating thing in the world, which in the first couple of weeks living with the family meal time of any sort was exactly that. I admit I was somewhat ravenous during meal time, Helga had to find ways to slow me down so I wouldn't make myself sick.

"Yes," Njord replied he took a swig of ale from his mug and the contents dripped down his thick beard, Hildr giggled a little and nudged me in the ribs, nodding at our father. I looked up at him and quickly looked back down at my food, trying not to laugh and trying not to draw attention to myself.

"He's a runty little thing," Jorund ventured, I could hear it in his voice, this wasn't said to be nasty or distance me, he was stating an obvious fact that we all could see. Even Eir, a few winters younger than me was nearly my height and well built. I was not as scrawny as I had been when Njord first brought me home, not being starved, the chores, and the battle training with Njord had brought me back to the same child I had been before the soldiers had come to my village. But I knew I was as runty as Jorund saw me and no amount of steady meals, training with Njord, or harsh winters was going to change that. It's just me.

"He'll grow," Njord assured his father, his voice as serious and sure as I had hear him and I think his comment was also directed at me, because he looked right at me, daring me to argue.

Jorund burst out laughing and at first I thought he was laughing at me and Njord's comments regarding me. Instead he reached over and lifted me off my seat pulling me into a hug.

"Well of course he will! Children always do, you've got a fine boy here he'll be ready for his first Thing soon too."

 _A Thing?_ I thought _what is a Thing?_ I wasn't sure about voicing my question, it seemed such an obvious thing I should know. Helga gave Jorund a look as I slid out of his hug and back to my own seat.

"The Thing at his age? I do not think so, he is too young," she said sharply

"Of course my dear I do not mean this Thing, when he's ready." Jorund calmly defended himself and Helga's expression softened. Eir looked over at me, I don't think she was trying to call attention to me or anything, but she's extremely observant and even though I'm older, she tries to look out for me and help me, even if I don't necessarily need her help or in this case, want it.

"Hrfan has a question," Eir stated loud enough for everyone to hear, everyone turned their attention to me and I ducked my head a little.

"What is it Hrfan?" Njord asked

"I'm fine," I replied shooting a glare at my sister, who glared right back for a second, before her face broke into a smile, she understood what I was confused about.

"Hrfan doesn't know what the Thing is and he's afraid to ask," Eir explained smugly, I could have thrown her out to the goats.

"No need to be afraid to ask boy," Jorund boomed "how are you to learn if you do not ask?"

I shrugged

"I don't know," I admitted

"A Thing Hrfan, is a gathering, come Spring Jarl Alstad will call a gathering in the village. Any free person may attend, it's a chance to hear of the summer raids, make decisions that will affect us all, there are trials that must be attended to, and most important," Njord said with a look of pride "it is where boys receive their arm rings, swearing allegiance to the Jarl, it is the first step to growing up, with the arm ring you will be allowed to go on raids with the other warriors." Njord slipped a intricately forged bracelet off his wrist, he admired it for a moment before handing it to me. It was heavy and though it had been sitting on Njord's wrist, the metal felt cold to the touch. I examined the ring for a moment, before handing it back to Njord, my adoptive father smiled proudly at me, slipping the ring back on. "Soon you'll have your own Hrfan and then you and I will go raiding together."

"But not yet," Helga spoke up interrupting Njord "he is too young."

Jorund boomed out a laugh

"No not yet, but soon Helga, he will be ready soon. Right Hrfan?" I didn't answer, I gave him a shrug and took a long sip of ale, it burned my throat a little, but it kept the questions at bay. "Anyways it is time for me to head home, before your mother wonders if she finally lost me to Valhalla."

Eir was on her feet in seconds, scrambling up Jorund's body and into his arms

"Grandfather tell us a story please, before you go?" she begged

"Yes please?" Hildr added "please?"

Jorund chuckled and looked at Njord and Helga

"Well, I suppose one story couldn't hurt," his eyes twinkled a little again I felt a surge of memories flood past me…memories of my own grandfather. "Hrfan, has my son told you the story of how the Gods came to be?"

I looked at Njord for a moment, I knew of the Gods and the differences between them, I had learned what Valhalla was and Hel, I'd learned the creatures that dwell in these lands and beyond, but I hadn't heard where the Gods came from, like with the Thing I had felt funny asking something that for my family was obvious.

"A little," I admitted and Jorund nodded, he pulled Eir into his arms, sitting her on his lap. Hildr scooted closer to her grandfather and grabbed my shirt, pulling me too.

"Now you girls have heard this story, but lets give Hrfan a chance to hear it as well." Jorund cleared his throat, before launching into a story. I closed my eyes as he spoke, allowing my mind to create the story to play out, it was something I had always done with the tales of my own gods and beings. I was still trying to comprehend some of the words Jorund spoke, but he was such a powerful storyteller I had no trouble comprehending the story itself:

"Before there was soil, or sky, or any green thing, there was only the gaping abyss of Ginnungagap. This chaos of perfect silence and darkness lay between the homeland of elemental fire, Muspelheim, and the homeland of elemental ice, Niflheim.

Frost from Niflheim and billowing flames from Muspelheim crept toward each other until they met in Ginnungagap. Amid the hissing and sputtering, the fire melted the ice, and the drops formed themselves into Ymir, the first of the godlike giants. When Ymir sweated, more giants were born.

As the frost continued to melt, a cow, Audhumbla, emerged from it. She nourished Ymir with her milk, and she, in turn, was nourished by salt-licks in the ice. Her licks slowly uncovered Buri, the first of the Aesir tribe of gods. Buri had a son named Bor, who married Bestla, the daughter of the giant Bolthorn. The half-god, half-giant children of Bor and Bestla were Odin, who became the chief of the Aesir gods, and his two brothers, Vili and Ve.

Odin and his brothers slew Ymir and set about constructing the world from his corpse. They fashioned the oceans from his blood, the soil from his skin and muscles, vegetation from his hair, clouds from his brains, and the sky from his skull. Four dwarves, corresponding to the four cardinal points, held Ymir's skull aloft above the earth."

As Jorund's voice faded, I slowly opened my eyes, both girls were hanging on his every word and even Njord and Helga had stopped what they were doing to listen to the story.

"What did you think Hfran?" Eir asked, she slid off of Jorund's lap and sat next to me, wrapping her arms around my waist "did you like it?"

I nodded, thinking of my people's beliefs and how we believe the world began, despite my feelings towards the sea, I knew of its importance and knew it was not only the beginning of the world, but it was my way home. I just had to make Cailleach understand I did not betray my people and that I truly do not belong with the Norse.

That night, long after Jorund had left and the girls and I were sent to bed, sleep took hold of me quickly, allowing for the dreams to come. For once I did not dream of Cailleach and her wolf or my own death. Instead Jorund's story played out in my dream and I saw the creation of their world, as it slowly mixed with the creation of my own, the two world's colliding and merging into one. It should have terrified me and woken me up with a start, but in all honesty it was one of the most peaceful dreams I'd had since I was taken from my family.

x-x-x-x


	8. Chapter 8

x-x-x-x

I began spending most of my time up with my new grandparents, Jorund was as welcoming as his son and did not treat me like an outsider, nor did he treat me like I was a replacement for the grandson he had lost, but at the same time it was as if I had always been with the family, at least in Jorund and Inga's eyes. Jorund worked with my shield and ax skills and between him and Njord, I felt like I was getting somewhat better. Njord taught me how to properly string a bow and much to my own surprise (and I'm sure his and Jorund's) I was actually pretty good at it. I think Njord still had high hopes that I would wake up one morning and be a skilled fighter with a sword or an ax, but I for one couldn't see that happening, but he was still proud of how far I had come.

So was I for that matter. It was, however, growing harder and harder each day to remember my real family, their faces were beginning to dim in my memory and even their voices were becoming faint. My language was another problem, true I was picking up the Norse language faster than before, it was rare that I stumbled over a word or did not comprehend something, but on the other side of that…

I was losing my Gaelic, I had no one to speak it with and each day that passed without hearing it, I could feel it slipping away. Surprisingly the one thing that was saving my language and my memory of it was my dreams. They continued to haunt me nearly every night and in them I know I was speaking my language, I was still greeted in the dreams by Cailleach and her hound and she spoke to me…I don't know if it was my gods trying to keep my language and memory of my people intact or if they were just simply nightmares.

I remember climbing into bed, pulling the blankets tight around my body, and falling asleep. I was tired but felt fine, it had been a long day of clearing the land of debris, Njord had plans for a new crop come spring and wanted to get a jump on clearing the spot. The whole family had been working and I know we were all exhausted.

What woke me up, well caught my attention was Eir getting out of bed and wandering to our parents, I heard the door creak as she opened it.

"Mother," she called softly "Mother," it took a few moments for Helga to respond, "mother," Eir repeated and I could hear the creak as Helga woke up

"Eir go back to bed,"

"Mother, something is wrong with Hrafn," Eir explained.

Wrong with me?

What was wrong with me I was fine?

I tried to sit up and reiterate this to my mother and sister, but I couldn't sit up, I was too tired to really move.

I felt cold, but when I pulled the blanket tighter around my body, I felt sweat pouring down my body, the blanket was making me too hot, but I still felt so cold.

"Eir, he's tired, we all are tired, go back to bed. I'm sure he's fine."

"But,"

"Eir go back to bed!" Njord was awake now and clearly not happy that his youngest was disturbing them.

"He's really sick mother, he's making so much noise and he won't wake up when I tell him to stop."

I heard Helga sigh and heard her get out of bed, I also heard Njord groan and roll back over.

Helga followed my sister to my bed. I may have been a scrawny child, but I wasn't sickly at all, just small. My mother never really had to worry about me falling ill, in fact of my siblings, myself, my older brother and my baby sister were three of the healthiest children in the family. So I couldn't really understand why Eir thought I was sick and why I didn't remember her asking me to stop making noises I clearly didn't remember making.

I felt Helga come closer to my bed, she reached up and felt my forehead, but pulled her hand back quickly.

"Hrafn?" she called "Hrafn wake up." I tried to open my eyes, but I only managed to do so a little, I couldn't speak, I couldn't even move, my entire body felt frozen. "Hrafn answer me," Now Helga's voice went from slightly annoyed, to concerned and her concern was over me. "Njord come quick,"

Now I heard Njord's heavy footsteps and seconds later I felt his large hand on my forehead.

"He's burning with fever," Njord concluded "Hrafn, open your eyes boy," Njord commanded, but they weren't going to open any further,

"Fa…" I managed to croak out, but my voice had left me, I didn't feel sick, nor did I feel hot like Helga and Njord were stating I was, I felt normal, other than the obvious that it was nearly impossible for me to move. I felt Njord pull me out of bed and carry me over to his and Helga's, Eir trotting behind her mother and Hildr finally waking up

"Mother, what's the matter?" she asked, but Helga didn't answer right away, she pulled off my nightshirt trying to cool me down, as she reached into a pail of water and used a cloth to drop water over me

"Hildr, Eir go out to the water and refill the bucket, quick now," Helga told the girls as they scampered out to do as she asked.

"M…" I said softly

"Hrafn, what hurts?"

"Nothing," I admitted and that was true, my body felt normal aside from the fact I felt both freezing cold and burning up at the same time.

"Hrafn did you eat something while we were in the field, something you didn't recognize or thought was something else?"

"No," we had all eaten the same thing, dried pork that Helga had brought with her to the field, some berries that Njord had picked, teaching the girls and me what was safe to eat and what wasn't. "I'm so cold," I added shivering.

"Njord I do not know what this is, I've never seen this before, we all ate the same thing today and the girls and Hrafn were never out of our sight, what is this?"

"I don't know my love," Njord replied, he placed a large hand on my forehead, but quickly pulled it back as if he had been burned. The girls came running in with the bucket, it sloshed over the floor, but Helga didn't seem to notice, she reached into the bucket and soaked the cloth up with water, before drenching my forehead again, "Hildr, Eir, get some sleep girls." Njord ignored the burn he must have felt as he placed his hand on my forehead again, he placed his other hand on Helga's shoulder "love I'll stay up with him, you get some sleep." Helga seemed ready to argue, but she nodded. Njord lifted me up into his arms and carefully placed me back in my bed, he pulled up a chair and took up residence next to my bed, while Helga reluctantly climbed back in her own bed.

"N…" I started to say but corrected myself "father, I'm sorry,"

"Shhh," Njord replied smiling at me gently "you have nothing to apologize for Hrafn, my son, close your eyes and try to get some rest, I'm sure you'll be back to your old self by morning," his smile widened "I've got an entire east side of the field that needs planting and it has your name on it boy."

I weakly returned the smile and felt my eyes growing heavy as I tried to fight it the heavier they became before I drifted off to sleep.

x-x-x

"Fitheach, my son where are you?" I heard a voice that sounded so familiar to my ears, but at first I wasn't able to place the voice, my mind had gone blank and I could barely remember my na…my name…that was my name that was my real name, not Hrafn, Hrafn was the name I had been given, that Njord had given me, but it was not my true name. Fitheach…That was my real name.

No…no it couldn't be…

Suddenly I knew that voice, my mother, that was my mother's voice. It had been so long since I had last heard her and now hearing her call my name I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I could see a small bit of light beckoning me to come closer and I could hear my mother's voice calling me, more frantic now from that light, but all around me I saw darkness, I felt darkness. In addition to her voice, I could hear the splashing of water on the shoreline, like I was on a beach, the monastery was my first thought, but I knew this wasn't the monastery, this felt different, this felt welcoming, like home, like I had finally returned home to my people.

"Fitheach, where are you, my little Raven where are you?" she repeated, more forceful this time.

"I'm here, Màthair I'm here,"

"Màthair, where is he? Where is Fitheach?" a new voice entered the dark cavern, and my heart swelled a little, that was my brother, my younger brother Eoin, wait…this didn't make any sense, Eoin was dead, I may not have seen him die, but there was no way he could have survived, not how sick he was and yet that was his voice.

"Fitheach my boy enough games, show yourself before your mother sends me out fer ya." Athair, that was my father, now I knew I had to be dreaming, he was most certainly dead I had watched him be cut down by the soldiers right in front of me.

"Athair!" I called, tears running down my cheek, I started to move forward towards their voices, but my feet touched water and I jumped back. There were no seas near my village, a small loch, and rivers to play in, but this water did not feel cold, it felt warm and I suddenly had the strongest urge to walk into it, let the waves crash over me and take me in. I knew I could do it, this was my family, my family was waiting for me on the other side, my mother, father, little brother, probably the rest of my family as well.

This was what I had been waiting for, I could step into the water and join them, I wouldn't need to worry about Valhalla, or Odin, or Ragnarok.

"Aye, there you are Fitheach, you little scamp." my father called "yer nearly there son, come on reach out, I'll catch you."

That was all the reassurance I needed. I reached my hand out feeling for my father's large calloused hands to take hold of me, reaching, stretching, I put my foot back into the water and this time I did not jump back. I was up to my knees, wading through the warm water, still reaching out for my father's hand.

"Athair," I called "I cannae see you!"

"You're almost there Fitheach, a little further,"

"Hrafn," another voice was calling me…only this one was from behind me and they were speaking Norse "Hrafn, come on boy wake up,"

No…that was Njord, he was looking for me, I felt guilty, betraying the man who had saved my life, who had adopted me and brought me into his family, but at the same time, right in front of me…even though I couldn't see them just yet, was my real family.

I felt torn, I wanted to reach out for my father, but I could feel Njord reaching for me too, he was holding my shoulder. He wasn't exactly stopping me from going, but he was giving me a reminder that he was there, he was right behind me.

I owed Njord so much, but he wasn't my father, my father was just beyond the waters, away from the land of Loki and Thor and Odin…

The thought of Odin just brushed into my mind when I felt a cold gust of wind sweep past me and as I glanced to my left to see where the wind had come, I saw a figure walking through the water…no that wasn't correct, he wasn't walking through the water, he was walking on the water, my first thought was to the Christian god…he had walked on water at least I think that's what the stories the monks told.

I let out a groan, not only did I have my own family and our gods calling for me and Njord and his gods calling me, but now I had the Christian god calling me, why couldn't all these gods just leave me be…

I looked closer and realized this man had something accompanying him that the Christian god never would have dared, two ravens.

My mind flashed back to the stories Njord had told me, Odin…Odin was always in the company of Ravens, they fly around the world and bring information to him.

Before I could move, the Ravens flew away from their master and towards me, now I was even more desperate to reach my father, I began moving closer to what I perceived to be his outstretched hand, Njord's grip on my shoulder stayed fast.

"Hrafn," he called and I could hear the pain in his voice "son come with me, please wake up,"

On the other side, my father calling me too, begging me to reach further, he was there I could almost touch him. As I reached closer one of the ravens flew at my hands, pecking it, the other landed on my shoulder and pecked at my ear. I tried to fight through the pain, but the pecking was relentless.

"Athair!" I cried "Athair, please, help me!"

"Fitheach, reach son, reach!"

"Hrafn, Hrafn,"

I had to pull back and tried desperately to shield myself from the attack, as I did so, I could see the water beginning to rise, it was forcing me back towards Njord, the Ravens continued their assault and I knew I had lost this battle, but I wasn't ready to admit this aloud.

"Athair, Màthair" I cried "Eoin! Wait for me, please wait for me!"

But they didn't answer as the darkness took over.

x-x-x

"He is still burning up,"

"Hrafn, you need to open your eyes,"

"When did this start?"

"The fever came last night, but the speaking in tongues, that began this morning,"

I recognized the voices, Helga, Njord, and Jorund, I tried to obey Jorund's words to open my eyes, but I didn't want to, opening them would have brought me back to this world, when I so desperately wanted to be in the other world with my family.

I felt someone take hold of my mouth, they were gentle but forceful as a warm liquid that tasted sweet at first was put into my mouth. I coughed and gagged as the strange taste turned sour, but I couldn't spit it out.

"You need to swallow it Hrafn," that was Inga's voice. I tried once again to cough out the sour tasting liquid, but someone was holding my mouth shut, I couldn't spit it out. Slowly I opened my eyes and saw Jorund and Inga standing over me, Jorund had his large hand over my mouth and was holding it shut, he had a look of concern in his eyes and seemed almost apologetic for his grip. Inga held a cup in her hand and was looking at me carefully, silently begging me just give in. Over Jorund's shoulders, I could see Njord and Helga, watching carefully, both my adoptive parents looked frightened, something I had never truly seen on either of their faces.

I gagged again as the liquid made its way towards my throat and I tried to shake Jorund loose from my head, but my adoptive grandfather held fast and wouldn't let me off that easy. He looked over at Njord and did something I didn't expect, he clamped my nose shut, now I couldn't breathe at all. I had no choice, my body's instinct to survive took over my will and I reluctantly swallowed the sour liquid, thereby allowing myself to breathe.

I promptly gagged and leaned over, feeling like I was going to be sick. Jorund released his hold on my mouth and nose and rubbed my back. He helped me sit up and gently pulled me to my feet.

"Better if you stand my boy, your grandmother's medicine is pretty powerful." He explained

I tried to speak, tried to answer him, but before I could even open my mouth, I felt as if the room was spinning. Njord was calling my name, my Norse name, but his voice sounded so far away, I could feel Jorund trying to steady me, but it had no effect as I lost my balance and crashed hard to the floor, my world once again going black.

x-x-x-x

A/N: Hi everyone, this chapter will have a continuation, but I'm having trouble getting it to flow just right and make sense so if any of my readers are willing to help, send me a PM and I'll explain the next chapter and the issue I'm having, it's mainly revolving around an issue I've created for myself, telling the story in first person. Anyways, I apologize this chapter was so short, but I did want to end it at this spot to make way for the next piece. Take care everyone and thank you in advance!


	9. Chapter 9

_Look Fitheach, see Fitheach open your eyes._

I did as the voice asked and was surprised by what I saw, Njord and Helga running, but they were just below me as if I was flying. In Njord's arms lay a boy, wrapped in furs. I couldn't see his face. What was I supposed to see here? Was this a dream, was I seeing Njord and Helga's past…was the boy in Njrod's arms Igar, their son who had died?  
 _Look Fitheach the voice commanded again_ , I am looking, I don't know what I am supposed to see.

Not far ahead of Njord lay Kaldbakr, the village I had first come to with Njord and the monks. The village was bustling as Njord carried the boy, Helga right behind him. I had no control over my body as I followed Njord and Helga, deeper into the village. People called out to my parents, waving at them, but they did not stop, not until they reached the great hall, where the Jarl lived.

Njord pushed past the skins and went inside. Helga followed and I found myself inside as well. The Jarl was at his chair speaking with another man, similar in build to Njord, both looked up in annoyance at being disturbed until they realized who it was.

"Njord my friend," the Jarl exclaimed getting to his feet "Helga... what is the ma-" he stopped obviously spotting the boy. "What is wrong with him?"

"We do not know," Helga sobbed

"Gustav fetch the healer!" the Jarl's wife called, it occurred to me that I had never learned of her name until this point. A servant standing off to the side of the room did as she commanded and carefully pushed past Njord to leave. "Here lay him down," the Jarl said and Njord did as he asked, carefully laying the boy down on a rug of thick furs.

The adults began speaking in low tones, I had to strain to hear. I heard the words English and sickness. I felt a wave of panic rush over me as I heard those words, no, it couldn't be. I moved closer and looked down at the boy, he had my face, my body, even my bed clothes. This was me.

Before I could further panic I heard footsteps, though they were dull on the wooden floor, I turned my head and looked towards the sound. A man, much older than Njord and even Jorund. He limped toward my parents and they spoke in hushed tones, I couldn't hear a word they were saying. Then the man moved towards me, I mean the me laying on the furs.

"He is from that Anglish raid last summer?" the man asked, Njord nodded and the man sighed "then he is already lost, Hel will not take him, nor will the Valkyries,"

"What do you mean he is lost?" the Jarl snarled

"The Christian god, he ensnares his followers, pulls them in, they drink his blood and eat his flesh. I have seen it. I have heard of it. The sickness grows inside each one, festering. The blood and flesh sustain them, but they cannot survive without it, they crave the blood and flesh, for they need it to live themselves. The boy is dying from that as we speak, he is crumbling. If he is not slain and the body burned he will seek out that flesh and blood from the nearest source."

I couldn't help my dumbfounded stare at the man…this healer. I may have gone out of my way to ignore the teaching's of the monks but I know for certain that the blood was sacred wine and the only flesh they truly consumed was that of animals. And even if what the healer spoke of was true, I had never taken part in it.

"You speak of nonsense," Njord snarled "this is my son he is no more Anglish that I am." Njord turned to the Jarl "what if this was Iric,"

The Jarl appeared torn,

"The Gods will see this through my lord, you must act before they do and destroy us all."

That was all I needed to hear, I lost control of my senses. I ran over to Njord yelling, crying, but of course, he didn't hear me, I was a spirit completely unseen. In frustration, I went to slam my fists against my father's back, a move that he would normally laugh at and push me away. I didn't care and in fact, I wanted him to push me, hit me, react in some way to prove I wasn't a spirit that this whole thing was a just my imagination. But of course, it wasn't...my fist went right through his back and Njord never flinched

"móðir" I cried turning my attention to Helga but she continued to stroke the head of the me laying unconscious on the floor while the healer continued to cast doubt over my ability to recover from the 'Anglish' sickness he called it. I hiccupped another sob.

"I will not be part of this my lord," the healer argued "you have doomed us all by allowing this child to live, he should have been destroyed and left in England, along with those monks. They too fell to this sickness, it consumed them and it will consume the boy." and with that, he turned on his heels and stormed off. Helga exchanged a look with Njord, tears in her eyes, before looking at the Jarl.

"He is an old fool," the Jarl finally said "but he is right about one thing my friend, he could not help the boy," the Jarl paused, his voice trailing off.

I bit back my tears, trying to fight more of them from coming. I also thought over the healer's words, the monks had fallen to sickness, according to him the same sickness I was now fighting. Did that mean all the monks who the Northmen had captured were dead? Mathus too? I did not feel sadness for the monks who had destroyed so much of my life and had attempted to destroy my Gods, but I did feel a sense of dread. Whether they had died because of this Christian disease the healer spoke of or not, he claimed I was suffering from the same thing. Did that mean my fate was sealed, I was going to die because I had lived in the Christian's Monastery and ate their food (when I could steal it)? I had never accepted their god and never gave up on my own Gods. Perhaps that meant nothing, just by eating the food and living with the monks, albeit, against my will, I was already destined to die.

Before I could continue to contemplate my own demise, I felt movement behind me. I slowly turned and studied the man standing before me. He was older than Njord, but not quite as old as the healer and unlike the healer, no one in the room but me seemed to notice him.

He was tall, so tall that I had to strain my neck back to get a proper look at him. He had a flowing white beard and only one eye, he wore a cloak and a wide-brimmed hat and carried a spear. I tried to place the man, but couldn't.

"Ah, so you're the speck that has caused so much chatter?" the man finally said "Interesting," he added he reached forward to touch my chin, but I jumped back, instinctively moving closer to Njord even though I knew my father couldn't hear nor see me. "Very interesting," the man repeated.

A cawing noise caught my attention as two ravens flew into the lodge. Instinct would have dictated I jump again, but I recognized these ravens as odd as it sounds. I had seen them several times, always the pair. They had circled above me while I was in the field with Njord, Helga, and the girls. They had been in the trees when Njord and I made camp on our way home from Kaldbakr before the winter, after he had brought me to these lands. More importantly, I had seen the Ravens the day before the Norse had come to the monastery and most importantly of all there had been two ravens circling above my head shortly before my family was warned of the impending attack by King Allaie's soldiers.

The ravens cawed at me, the one on the man's left shoulder began preening his feathers, while the right one stared straight at me.

"So you recognize Hugin and Munin?" the man said, now I knew who the man was this was the one my father spoke of…the Allfather, Odin. I had to be dreaming or delusional in my current afflicted state. It was possible, after all, my younger brother, when he first became ill, before the English came for us he would see things that were not there, call out to animals and people who were nowhere in sight. He even claimed he saw the Bean Nighe hovering over our bed.

"Are you going to take me to Valhalla?" I asked and Odin burst out laughing, he spooked the Ravens a bit, but they settled back on his shoulder

"You? A runt of a thing you are right now. No, my son, I am not here to take you to my hall just yet. Someday perhaps if you'll allow it."

"Allow it?" I asked

"There are others fighting for your attention boy. Do you want to join me in Valhalla someday?"

I took a deep breath, this was a difficult question. I did not want to lie, especially not to a god, or even seal my fate, but at the same time I was torn between two worlds and that fight was only growing more difficult to avoid. I yearned to be reunited with my family, to be with my brothers, sisters, and parents in Tír na hÓige. But then I would think about the stories that Njord, Helga, Jorund, Inga had recounted time and time again, about where warriors go when they die, especially when they die in battle, Valhalla, where days were spent training and fighting to defend Odin and the nine worlds when Ragnarök came, and evenings were spent feasting in a grand hall with Odin.  
This was an impossible decision, to accept one place would be losing my family. If I accepted Odin I would lose my family, but if I accepted Tír na hÓige…I would lose my adoptive family.

"I…" I started to say and Odin smiled at me

"The decision won't come now boy, you have many, many years left before you will be standing at the gates to decide your eternity. Be it with me or the witch woman." Assuming the witch woman was Cailleach I winced "Ah you fear the witch woman,"

"She is the bringer of death and disease to my people, the death of the old lands and season, the birth of new life a new season. I fear her like I fear change…but…" I paused I had never spoken of my fear of Cailleach to anyone and here in either dream or delusion, I was recounting my fear. I did not know if Odin was truly standing in front of me. "She comes to me in my dreams as you have come, beckons me to come with her and I fear she is not bringing me to Tír na hÓige, but into her service forever."

"Would that be so troubling my son?"

"Servitude forever, but with her as the master." I looked up at the Ravens atop Odin's shoulder "She may turn me into a raven and that is how I will spend eternity. With no end in sight."

Odin threw back his head and laughed, the two ravens cawed in displeasure, but soon settled.

"And if my Valkyries decide to take you?"

I thought for a moment, trying to remember Njord's stories, the Valkyries, oh yes, the warrior women who collected the honorable dead for Odin's great hall to feast, fight, and train, in anticipation of Ragnarök.

I shrugged

"I don't know sir," I admitted softly

"Well you are young and still clinging to your gods, trust me, boy, when the time comes, when you are laying on the field of battle you'll search the sky for my Valkyries to take you." I didn't know how to respond to that, I felt my stomach drop as he turned and walked out the door, leaving me standing in the great hall, as my adoptive parents tried to care for the me that was dying.

The servant Gustav had fetched the village midwife, unlike the healer she seemed genuinely concerned for me and promised my parents she would do all in her power and all the Gods would allow to care for me. As she mixed herbs into a concoction with the help of several of the Jarl's servants, I began to feel strange. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see, the sound that had filled the lodge was growing softer, and most unnerving of all, I felt as if winter had entered the lodge and was blanketing me in ice and wind. The darkness began to become more intense, I couldn't see my own hand in front of my face and it did not take long for my world to go black. As the darkness took over, all I could think about was that Odin was wrong I was not destined to join him in Valhalla, nor was I to join my family in Tír na hÓige. I was sure my only destination was to Caillieach.

x-x-x

The concoction that the midwife made smelled of rotting vegetables, but Njord and Helga both knew she was old and wise and very good at her calling. Nearly all of the children in Kaldbakr over the last thirty years or so had been guided into this world by her gentle hands, including Eir and Igar, Hildr's birth had not been as difficult despite being Helga's first and Inga had been by her side the entire delivery.

The midwife had assisted the healer when a terrible illness had infected the land and she had brought many back from the brink of death. So Helga and Njord both had faith in her abilities to heal Hrafn. But Njord worried that her abilities would not be enough to save his adoptive son. He could feel something pulling on Hrafn's lifeline, easing him towards another fate.

Sensing his unease and knowing it had nothing to do with her abilities, the midwife insisted that Njord visit the Seer, to ask for his advice, she explained that perhaps with her skills and his connection to the Gods, together they may have a way to bring Hrafn home to his family.

Njord was not a fearful man, but the Seer never failed to unnerve him. In his adult life, only three insistences had truly made his blood run cold in fear, Hildr being born, even though her birth was the easiest for Helga of the three, she was the first and the time it took for her to be born unnerved the otherwise stoic raider. The second time was seeing Igar's footprints in the freshly fallen snow, walking towards the lake and disappearing into the abyss that was the hole in the ice, the final fear was hearing Hrafn cry out in pain and not being able to help him thus far, hence his visit to the Seer.

The old man as always sensed Njord's presence and welcomed him in with a simple gesture of his hands.

"Ancient one, I am here to-" Njord started to say but the Seer cut him off

"You are here to ask about the boy the one you call Hrafn, the Raven." Njord had given up long ago being surprised by the Seer's conclusions, but he could feel his heart begin to race. "Ah, I see I am correct,"

"I need to know, what can I do to help my son?"

"The son of your flesh and blood or the son who despite being a spoil of a raid willingly calls you father?" the Seer did not wait for Njord to answer, instead he took a deep breath "You protect the boy and the Gods see this, he is fallen because he is being tested and you, in turn, are being tested Njord son of Jorund."

"I don't understand, Hrafn is just a boy. I am just trying to care for him as any father would, why are we being tested by the Gods?"

"They wait to see what length are you willing to go to protect the boy. He is not of your flesh and blood, but an outsider brought to our shores. They wait to see if the boy can truly accept the Gods and forsake those whom he was raised to follow. He must accept in his heart of hearts that he is of your flesh and blood and accept without question the Gods."

"What do I need to do? Why does he not wake? He is growing weaker with each passing day."

"You must prove to the Gods that he is worthy of their attention, something must make the gods notice him and offer up their protection."

"A sacrifice?" Njord asked

"A symbol," the Seer replied "the boy has a cloud over him that prevents him from coming back to the world of the living, he is trapped in the middle. A being not of Man, God, Giant, Elf, or Dwarf that I know, has claimed his life as her own. She seeks him out and refuses to let go."

"What can I do?"

"She claims the boy because he has not been claimed by our world or by you. You care for him as your son and guide him as your son, but he is not truly yours yet. He is unclaimed. Forge a symbol that the boy may wear, this will mark him as your son and keep her away."

"Who is this woman?"

"She brings death in her wake, much like Hel she appears to preside over certain death. She has claimed the boy as her own tool and haunts his dreams and follows in his wake."  
Njord suddenly flashed back to the night he and Hrafn left Kaldbakr, right after the summer raid Njord had brought the boy to the village shores and was bringing him home as a new member of the family. He remembered the boy had woken up in terror, a scream that made Njord's blood run cold and a word: Cailleach. Hrafn had refused to go into details of his nightmare and as their conversation was limited to the few words Hrafn could speak, Njord had let it go.  
But Hrafn had spoken the same word when Eir had come to him and Helga claiming Hrafn was keeping her awake.

"Cailleach?" Njord finally said and the Seer nodded

"She has taken a special interest in your son and has for many years, long before the raids last summer, long before he even opened his eyes in his mother's arms. His name gives her power over him."

"Do I change his name; will that dissuade her?"

The Seer shook his head

"The symbol, forge a symbol to connect the boy to the Gods, that is his only hope for now. She will still lay claim to him, but perhaps the Gods will take interest in him as well, enough to bring him back to you for a time."

Njord wanted to question what the Seer meant by 'for a time,' but he felt he had taken enough of the Seer's attention, he understood what needed to be done and wanted to get started as quick as possible. If the Seer was correct and Hrafn was trapped between two worlds, he needed to do all he could to bring his son to Midgard.

x-x-x


End file.
